


Just Some Redneck Asshole: The Sorta Sequel

by GodsUngratefulArms



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Miscarriage, butalsotherewillbesmutandfluff, mostly - Freeform, nobutseriousANGST, ohbutnotthedeadones, plusAdie, somecanonchangesmayoccur, sorryformylongtags, thewholetwdcrew, whichislikeeverybody
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 153,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26834197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodsUngratefulArms/pseuds/GodsUngratefulArms
Summary: But what if Negan lived though?*Sequel to Just Some Redneck Asshole*
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 110
Kudos: 17





	1. We Could Try

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably not make any sense if you haven't read the first part. If you have read the first part, I'm so, so, soooo sorry for what I'm about to do to the happy fluffy end. I promise I will try to make it only exactly as painful as necessary.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Miscarriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of miscarriage

**Chapter 1**

*Daryl's POV*

I hate it here. It's been over a year and we're still trying to rebuild Sanctuary, trying to make it a home. The aftermath of the war was rough on all our communities. The Kingdom, Hilltop, Alexandria… we're all still recovering from the damage. I know they ain't much better off, but I'd still rather be anywhere but here. Nothing grows here and I feel like something sick lingers in the air, all the shit Negan did. All the shit these people just let happen or even shit they did themselves. Sometimes I still think I can smell burning skin, can still hear that damn song playing in my head.

Rick made a choice, though. Negan's alive, rotting in a cell. I don't like it. Adie don't like it and Maggie sure as  _ hell _ don't like it. But it ain't up to us. I get why Rick did it. Why he ain't fighting no more. I'd've done anything for my kid if… it happened when I was out, letting Dwight go. I didn't kill him. I wanted to. Adie was with Maggie and Jesus, back at Hilltop and she just… she just started bleeding. She bled for a week or two and it was over and she ain't been the same. I think she feels guilty, like it's her fault. It ain't. Shit just happens. It ain't nothin’ she did or didn't do. She don't believe it, though.

She's not sleeping, neither. She's lying here next to me but it feels like she ain't really in the room. She tried so damn hard to put on a happy face for Maggie when baby Hershel was born, then cried herself to sleep for weeks after. I don't think she knew how much she wanted our baby until it was just gone. Erased. She didn't wanna be touched for a long time after that, until one night she did. She lost her shit the next morning, terrified she was gonna get pregnant again and… but she didn't. She didn't and now when she wants to be touched, we're careful. But we don't have to be.

"We could try," I blurt, feeling her body stiffen beside me. "We could."

"I can't," she whispers, curling into me and resting her head on my chest.

I ain't gonna push her. But we could if she wanted to. It's taking a while, but we are rebuilding. I could talk to Rick, get him to put somebody else in charge here. Me and Adie could go to Hilltop or maybe even the Kingdom, start a family on purpose, and I could keep her safe there. I know I could. Maybe I'll ask Rick when I see him in a couple days. Just to see.

I'm gonna set up a run into DC tomorrow, see if we can't hit up the natural history museum. The Smithsonian. Adie's been there. She ain't looking forward to going back. Last time she was there, so was her dad. It's smart, though. What better place to figure shit out than a big ass building full of old world human achievement? We got a fucking map to survival in there. That key book helps, but we need the right tools and we're gonna get 'em.

*Adrienne's POV*

I hate it here. That's all I can think about, making my way from our room down to the bike lot where I'm assuming Daryl will be, pacing around with his nose buried in a manual. He's been trying to figure out how to convert bikes to run on electricity. Fuel is getting harder and harder to find and he really doesn't wanna start riding on horses to get around. I don't think he ever actually forgave Nelly for throwing him down that ravine back at the farm. I'm glad Jerry, Rosita and Eugene are here, for now at least. It doesn't feel like it's just Daryl and me alone with the Saviors.

I know they surrendered and I know they've been mostly cooperative, but I can't help but still think of them as Negan's hench-people. He's still alive. He's still alive and Glenn isn't watching his baby grow up, Abe isn't smoking cigars and talking shit with Tara, my  _ baby... _ my people have suffered so much loss because of that prick and he's  _ alive. _ I'm pissed at Rick for that. I know he's trying to do right by Carl, and maybe it's working now, but with Negan alive the Saviors aren't ever gonna fully fall in line. Rick should've killed him when he had the chance.

"Mornin', Mrs. Dixon."

Jed. I hate Jed. I hate the way he looks at me. I hate how he never actually seems to be looking at my face. He's staring at me expectantly, crouched beside a bike he doesn't appear to be doing anything with, just playing the part of useful so Daryl doesn't put him out in the garden boxes with Regina.

"Mornin'," I mutter, not sparing him a second glance as I practically sprint towards Daryl.

"Hey," he grunts, looking up from his manual just long enough to let me kiss him hello.

"Hey," I murmur. "I was-"

"Daryl," Laura interrupts, materializing out of thin air, leaning in to whisper something in his ear.

I hate her, too. I'm not blind, I know she likes him. She's tattling, I can tell. Seems about the only thing she's good for, letting Daryl know when people are breaking the rules. Oh, and undressing him with her eyes. She's good at that, too. I wonder if he still has the ring on his finger when she's done stripping him, or if she gets off knowing he's off limits and that's why she's got him in her sights. I wish I could say it doesn't bother me.

"I'll take care of it," Daryl nods, prompting Laura to beam up at him and scurry back wherever the hell she came from. "Adie, will you make sure Eugene's put in that run request?"

Ugh. The run. Daryl's off like a shot to go shut down whatever bullshit Laura had to report, knowing I'll do what he asks without needing an explicit answer. I have mixed feelings about the whole thing. Still, it's been a damn long while since we've seen our friends and I'm missing them. Being separated like this, all of us scattered throughout the communities, really makes me miss the days it was just us against them, when we stayed together no matter what.

*Daryl's POV*

When Rick put me in charge of this place, I made it fucking clear from the start Negan's way of doing shit is done. No torturing people into submission, no points, no making the dead work for us. We want something done, we do it ourselves. Laura might be a narc, but at least she follows the rules.

"Hey!" I bark, stomping into the yard, already fuming. "What the hell you doin'?"

Arat and Justin got a walker strung up on some railroad ties between the boxes. They both know damn well this ain't what we do.

"Scarin' the birds away," Arat explains.

I don't give a shit about the birds. We just pulled the last harvest, never mind the fact that's a dumb ass idea anyway. Crows are scavengers. If anything, hoisting a rotting body into the air is just gonna bring more of 'em. I fire a bolt into the dead sumbitch and walk away, assuming they don't need further instructions.

I hate this place.

*Adrienne's POV*

  
  


"Sanctuary to Alexandria Relay One, come in," Eugene says, holding the walkie just a little too close to his mouth. "You hear me, AR One?"

We managed to find a few repeaters stashed away back at that solar warehouse, and Eugene was able to set our shit up so our long range radios are now longer range radios. We've got patrols set up night and day covering routes between our four communities, keeping tabs on herds and eyes out for wanderers. We don't get many of the latter. The dead are far more common.

"Loud and clear, Ponytail," Tara's voice crackles. "What's up?"

"Crops are done-zo at the Sanctuary," Eugene informs her. "Time to go medieval on this thing's ass, as it were."

The harvest wasn't exactly spectacular. The dirt here isn't good for farming much of anything at all, but Daryl's hoping we can change that with a plow from the display at the museum. Maybe if we churn up some land we can actually make something grow out here.

*Daryl's POV*

There still ain't nothin' better than being on a bike with Adie's arms around me. I know she don't like being at Sanctuary, neither, and I can feel the tension leaving her body as we speed away from that fucking shit hole. By the time we've got to the overpass at the Kingdom Patrol site, she's melted against my back, her face buried in my neck like old times, and I know she's happy 'cause she's humming, and I've made up my mind. I'm gonna ask Rick about moving somewhere else soon as I get a chance, get her outta that place. Get her somewhere she can be happy. I slow the bike when Jerry and his horse come riding into view.

"Clear to the rally point, dudes!" He announces with a grin. "See you on the flip."

Adie chuckles, tossing him a thumbs up as I give the bike a little more gas. She always seems to get a kick outta Jerry. He's alright by me 'cause he loves Adie and Carol and I know he'll protect 'em.

And he makes a kick ass peach cobbler.

*Adrienne's POV*

This place looks just as huge now as it did when I was 8 years old, holding tight to my Dad's hand while he led me up the steps and into the building, excitedly pointing out his favorite displays. That was back when I thought he knew everything, before I knew he was messed up. That I was messed up. Rick and Michonne flank the double doors, waiting for any dead lurking inside to shamble out at Rick's whistle. There's only one.

"We're good for now," Michonne murmurs. "Sweep protocol when we get in."

Rick opens the door wide, all of us filing inside. It's just like I remember, minus the dust and the trash and the cobwebs. And the blood. Walking through the place, it looks like whoever was camped out here has been gone a long while. Abandoned sleeping bags litter the floor, collapsed tents, clothing, empty backpacks, children's toys… this place fell early and it fell hard. Daryl slips his hand into mine, lacing our fingers. I glance at him appreciatively, lifting our hands and kissing the back of his.

"Y'all got your lists," Rick announces. "Circle back here when you're done.  _ Be safe. _ "

"This is gonna work," Maggie breathes, eyeing our surroundings with much more hope than I can muster just yet.

There's a large section of glass tiles, an installation set into the floor, just before we reach the stairs. Despite the rubble from the crumbling ceiling, the glass seems to be intact. Black support beams criss cross beneath our feet, the walkers on the floor below growling restlessly as we cautiously make our way over the glass. Once we're all safely across, the plan is to split into pairs and trios and sweep the building. Cyndie joins Daryl and me, turning back for a moment as the three of us ascend the stairs.

"Heads up!" She calls, eyes on a walker hurling itself over the banister on one of the floors above, bringing a chunk of stone railing with it.

The group still on the glass surges forward, reaching the stairs just before the body hits the ground, skewering itself on a piece of rebar jutting upwards from the ruins atop the glass, which, miraculously, still doesn't shatter. Daryl takes pity on the poor dead bastard, firing a bolt into the thrashing corpse.

"Onward," Ezekiel huffs. "We'll figure it out."

We will. We always figure it out. I just hope we don't lose anybody in the process this time.

*Daryl's POV*

Natives really got the short end of the stick. This display can dress it up all they want, call them pricks pilgrims and make it out like they were all friends, but that don't make the atrocities that happened to them just go away. Maybe this apocalypse thing is our punishment for building a capitalist white supremacy on top of an ancient burial ground. You reap what you sow. Adie drops my hand, running a fingertip along the lines of an illustration in the bottom corner of the display placard. It's a Cherokee rose.

Before either of us can say anything, something thuds a few feet away. Cyndie, struggling to lift a canoe from its stand just down the hall.

"You need help with that?" I ask her, Adie already moving to assist.

"Uh, yeah," Cyndie sniffles, quickly swiping away a tear with the back of her hand. "Uh, sure."

"You all right?"

"I was just, um… just thinking about my brother," she explains. "We were fighting during a canoe ride at the county fair. It's funny, you know, how certain things just bring up random memories like that," she sighs, eyeing me. "Does it happen to you?"

Adie catches my eyes before lowering her gaze to the floor, discreetly moving away from us to stand next to Ezekiel another few yards down the hall.

"Most of the memories I got of my brother, we were fightin'," I mutter, forcing my eyes from Adie so I can look at Cyndie. "But I had friends that fought with me. They wanted to be here. They didn't make it. So, yeah, it happens to me."

She nods and, nothing else to say, the two of us lift the canoe from the stand and cart it down the stairs.

*Adrienne's POV*

Daryl was right about the plow. Maggie found it. They've got a blacksmith back at Hilltop, he can use this thing to create a working replica, which they can send to Sanctuary and then we can try and fix our shit. Grow something, contribute more to our little world than the occasional ear of corn. We just have to get the damn thing out of here first. Luckily, Maggie also found a big ass wagon.

"All right," Rick huffs. "Easy. Last step. Easy!"

We manage to get the front end of the wagon onto the glass without breaking anything, which is promising, but we're not even halfway there.

"All right, hold, hold!" Rick orders.

He's got one side and I've got the other, Michonne, Daryl, Carol, and Ezekiel attached to ropes, which are attached to the frame, bringing up the rear. The idea is for Rick and I to maneuver the wheels where they need to be, the group in the back supporting the weight.

"How's it lookin'?" I call breathlessly, adjusting the rusty front wheel on my side.

"So far, so good," Rick replies, testing the glass with one leg before stepping down from the stairs, satisfied he's not gonna fall through.

I move down the last step and meet Rick at the front of the wagon.

"Let's go," he instructs.

Ropes are pulled tight, a small cacophony of 'slow' and 'woah' and 'easy, now' erupting from the group as we gently ease the wagon the rest of the way down the stairs and onto the glass. I breathe a little easier when we manage to roll the behemoth across the glass without much incident beyond a few minor cracks spider webbing beneath the wheels. We've still got to ferry the plow safely across the glass to the solid tile on the other side, but the hardest part is done.

"No sudden moves," Rick reminds us. "Just keep goin', nice and slow."

"That's what she said," I blurt, earning a withering glare from Rick as he and Daryl cross to safety.

It's only funny for a split second. Then the glass cracks beneath my feet.

"Save the plow!" Ezekiel hollers, shoving me and Carol out of the way just before falling through the floor.

He's alive. He's alive, saved by the ropes bound around his waist. He's dangling from the hole in the floor, swinging about while the walkers below swarm him. If he can hold on, we can get him out. But the rope is already fraying, rubbing away against the broken glass while my people play tug of war with the dead. I scurry across the floor and sink to my knees beside the hole, wedging a hand between the rope and the sharp edges, shards of glass digging into my palm while I reach for Ezekiel's hand.

I can't reach him, the walkers keep pulling him down. Daryl fires a couple bolts into the walkers at Ezekiel's shoulders. It's just enough. The King swings upright, grabbing onto my hand, clasping tight, but I'm not strong enough, I'm not strong enough to hold him.

"C'mon!" Daryl snarls, reaching for Ezekiel's other hand.

It's like The King suddenly becomes weightless and, between the two of us, Daryl and I have him up and on solid ground just seconds later, and just seconds after that he's accosted by Carol. She pins him to one of the columns lining the glass death trap and plants one on him and when she pulls away, he's chuckling, eyes dancing. Carol kisses him again, her relief palpable, and I'm only able to appreciate her happiness for another moment or two before Daryl's snatching at my hands, glaring at the blood oozing from the cuts on my palm.

"What the hell were you thinkin'?" He mutters, pressing his lips to my forehead before tearing a strip of fabric from the hem of his shirt and wrapping it around my hand.

His glare softens and I know he's not mad, not really. He was scared. But he knows as well as I do this is part of the deal. If I hadn't gotten there first, it would've been him or Carol or Rick or Michonne or Maggie, 'cause that's who we are. We're not losing anybody else. I won't and he won't either.

*Daryl's POV*

Adie's complete and total lack of concern for her own goddamn wellbeing has been simultaneously the best and worst thing about her since the first time I met her. I'm trying to tell myself it's just a cut, but what if she'd fallen through? I couldn't do this without her, I ain't gonna watch her die. I can't. Still, it is just a cut. She's okay. She actually seems happier than she's been in a long time, humming to herself again while she gets situated on the back of the bike.

All things considered, this was a pretty fucking productive run.

"Daryl?" She blurts suddenly, pressing up against my back to murmur against my ear. "Drive faster."

Something in her voice sends a pleasant shiver skittering up my spine and I forget if I was actually pissed at her or not. Hell, I forget about everything that ain't her body on mine. She still loves the bike, too, and some asshole part of me really wishes we could just leave everything in the dust. Just ride forever, never worry about nothin' but each other ever again.

"Yes, ma'am."

-

We don't make it too far before Rosita comes rumbling towards us on one of the four-wheelers we scavenged from an ATV place in Bluefield. The best route home, a bridge that connects our four communities, is out. We gotta double back and figure out how the hell we're gonna get everything where it needs to go. Adie seems pretty resigned to the fact nothing's ever easy, but I still feel like our happy little bubble was just shot to hell. Rosita rides back to the others with us so we can all ride to the bridge together. Rosita ain't one to exaggerate, but I'd still been holding out hope the bridge would be an easy fix. It ain't gonna be.

"Two other herds merged into Silvia, so now it's even bigger," Rosita explains, our dejected group staring at the ruins. "One of them came through here, and the back end took down the bridge. Took the walkie repeater with it."

"What about route A?" I question. "Is that clear yet?"

"It's still too close to the herd," Rosita shakes her head.

"Son of a bitch," Adie hisses, glaring into the water below.

"We can get to Alexandria from this side," Michonne points out. "Stay there til it passes."

"No," Maggie says flatly. "Route A's taken  _ days  _ to clear before. I need to get home to Hershel."

Adie stiffens and I wonder if anyone else can see how much it hurts her, or the near immediate guilt flashing across her face before she composes herself.

"We could take D," she suggests.

"It's early enough in the day," Carol agrees.

"Keep an eye on the trade road in case anyone else tries to move through," Rick instructs, Rosita nodding her assent. "Gabriel, y'all can head back to Alexandria from here. The rest of us, we'll go to the Sanctuary or Hilltop, stay the night and head on from there. Take care. Get home safe."

It's settled, then. Rosita's gonna stay out here until Adie and me get back to Sanctuary, send somebody out to replace her. Gabriel's taking the Alexandria group home, with the exceptions of Rick and Michonne, and the rest of us are gonna move on together. We've had worse days than this. It's gonna be fine.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Rick, the horses can't pull the wagon though this mud."

Michonne's right, it's too heavy. The wheels are rutting into the ground and the horses are tired. Sanctuary's a bit further than Hilltop, but even if it wasn't, me and Daryl came to the unspoken agreement to stick with our people until we can make sure they're home in one piece.

"Maggie, I think they need a break," Kenny points out, attempting to soothe his horse.

"Maybe we should leave the supplies," Maggie suggests. "Send a group back in a day or two."

"It's risky," Michonne murmurs. "We've seen herds run through and destroy bigger things than this."

"We can swap out the horses," Rick decides. "Split up, take 'em out in the clear, give 'em a rest while we see what we can do about the trailers."

Seems like a decent enough plan, until we're ankle deep in mud, ropes coiled tight around our hands while we attempt to pull the wagon through the sludge. My palm is throbbing, fresh blood oozing from the wounds. Still, I could deal with all that just fine, but-

"Rick!" Michonne hisses, whipping around to eye the walkers emerging from the woods a few yards down the road.

"Fuck," Daryl mutters, digging his heels in and tugging at the rope with renewed vigor.

"We're almost there," Ezekiel encourages, all of us following Daryl's lead, heaving at the ropes.

It moves less than an inch. The walkers are getting closer and closer. I drop my rope and pull the buck knife from my belt, wheeling around and plunging the blade into the walkers at the head of the pack while my people fight with the wagon.

"One more time," Rick orders. "One, two, three!"

Miraculously, it really only is one more time. The wagon lurches forward and they manage to push it onto the dry, hard-packed dirt on the other side of the road.

"Good, let's get outta here," Rick calls, but it's a little too late.

We've dealt with bigger groups than this, it's hardly what I'd call a herd, but there are too many to just outrun.

"Daryl, Michonne," Rick mutters, waving them over to help me while he and the others begin loading the plow and other supplies back into the wagon.

"On it," Michonne sighs, she and Daryl flanking me, taking out a couple of the closer walkers before turning back to help load.

There's too many, they're still just pouring out of the trees. I dart around in between them, weaving and ducking, attempting to confuse them into trying to follow me, burying my knife in skull after skull, and it's only sort of working because the horses are scared, whinnying frantically as the corpses shamble closer.

"Rick," I snarl, yanking my knife from one walker and plunging it into another.

"We gotta go," he orders. "Leave the wagon!"

Daryl grabs me by the elbow, yanking me with him, and we run. None of this shit is worth dying for. It's just things. We'll find more things somewhere else. They managed to free one of the horses, but the other is still tethered to the wagon.

"I gotta free her!" Ken hollers, turning back.

"Ken!" Rick shouts. "Wait!"

The boy has no intention of waiting, unsheathing his machete and hacking at the rope tying his horse to the wagon, oblivious to the walker on his left. The walker bites down on his arm, and maybe we could have saved him, maybe, but the horse is spooked. She rears back and kicks Kenny in the chest.


	2. Us

**Chapter 2**

*Daryl's POV*

"Adie!" I hiss, but she ain't listening.

She hurls herself at the walker that just bit the kid, furious, plunging her knife into its skull and collapsing to her knees next to the boy just as Maggie and the others come tearing from the other side of the road. Maggie's horrified, we all are, but Siddiq is in his element, on his knees beside Adie in no time.

"Ken, look at me," Adie murmurs, cradling the kid's head in her hands. "Just keep lookin' here."

"You're gonna be alright," Marco, another kid from Hilltop, sobs. "They're, they're gonna fix it, you're gonna be alright."

"I'm not gonna make it," Ken gasps, eyes fluttering closed. "I'm not gonna…"

"Hey!" Adie hisses, smoothing his hair from his face. "Look here, Ken, just look at me. Okay? It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

"We'll keep the walkers away," Rick assures Siddiq.

I hate turning my back on Adie. I panic every time I can't see her and you'd think I'd be used to that by now, but I ain't. Still, it ain't a choice. I fall into step beside Rick. We're gonna keep the walkers away.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Enid, get the quick clot and a, and a tourniquet," Siddiq instructs.

"Here," she says breathlessly, already having produced both from her pack.

"Tell my dad to let Marco take my place, okay?" Ken whimpers, clinging tight to Maggie's hand.

"Hey, you're gonna talk to your dad yourself, okay?" Marco cries, staring in horror at the blackened hoof print already blooming on his friend's ribcage.

"Just stay awake," Siddiq orders. " _ Stay awake. _ "

I don't think he can. I think his ribs are fractured, I think… I don't think he can breathe. He's choking, desperately sucking in air, but I don't think he's gonna make it. Maggie's eyes flicker to mine, horrified, and I wish I could offer her any kind of comfort.

"Ken," she sobs. "Ken, Ken, just stay awake. Ken, look at me. Ken."

"Te-tell my mom and dad I'm, I'm comin'," he rasps.

There's nothing else we can do. He shudders one last breath, his eyes fluttering closed as his chest goes still. I press my fingers against his neck, shaking my head.

"Ken?" Maggie breathes.

There's nothing we can do. I smooth his hair from his eyes, gently turning his head, eyeing Maggie. I wish we could say this isn't routine, but we know what we have to do. It's the pact. We made it a long time ago, after we left her family's farm in ashes. We don't let each other turn. She nods, tears slipping down her cheeks, pulls her knife from the sheath on her belt, and, as gently as she can manage, thrusts the blade through the back of Ken’s neck, up into his brain. It's the pact.

"C'mon," I whisper. "Let's get him up. Get him home."

*Daryl's POV*

Adie's angry. We all are, but… she wanted to send everything we scavenged back to Hilltop. She says it ain't right. Earl and Tammy, Ken’s parents, they lost their boy. And they're not getting shit back but a plow that broke when the walkers came and a body to bury. Everything else came back here with us, to feed Sanctuary. Rick and Michonne came back with us, too, and so did Carol and Ezekiel. They're gonna stay the night and we'll figure shit out in the morning. Part of me, that selfish part I know is in there, is happy Rick's spending some time in this place. Maybe he'll realize Sanctuary should burn.

"Rick Grimes is here!" Mel, one of the old workers, announces as we make our way into the big room with the furnace.

Rick Grimes is a big hit with the workers. The people who were suffering under Negan's thumb, working themselves to death to provide for the Saviors. The Saviors don't have much love for him, though. Hell, they don't seem to like me much, neither. I don't give a shit what they like. We're all miserable.

"That's the man that ended the war," Potter, another former worker, murmurs as we pass. "Is Negan suffering?" He demands. "I hope he damn well is."

Potter is the father of one of the girls Negan married. He's still just as pissed as he's ever been, and knowing what's been done to his little girl… I don't blame him. Seems everyone but Negan is still suffering, still losing things.

"Hello," Eugene greets, engaging in some kind of complicated secret handshake with Adie involving an inordinate amount of hand smacking, a stomp and twirl, ending with a fist bump. "All was well in your absence, other than a certain cabal of Saviors slingin' me some serious stink eye, but I've compiled a list of items that need your semi-immediate attention."

"Not now, man," I sigh warily.

"I checked out the supplies," Laura announces, falling into step beside me, forcing Adie to stumble back a couple paces. "It's a pretty good haul. You should let everybody know."

"I ain't gettin' up on a stage 'n… givin' a damn  _ speech _ like him," I hiss. 

She stops short and I know she's just trying to be helpful, but somebody  _ died _ today. The only thing that requires my attention, semi-immediate or otherwise, has red hair and is currently scowling at Laura from between Michonne and Carol, both of whom are wearing nearly identical expressions. I guess Laura ain't too popular with any of 'em.

"It's bad timin'," I sigh. "We jus' lost someone out there."

"Let the man  _ breathe, _ for Christ's sake," Adie mutters, shouldering past Laura.

"Daryl," Michonne says sharply, eyeing something on the wall.

More damn graffiti. 

_ SAVIORS SAVE US! _

That one's been there a while, but the inscription beside it is new. 

_ WE ARE _

_ STILL _

_ NEGAN _

"Does this happen often?" Michonne demands.

"More 'n more since the crops been dyin'," I inform her. "Eugene, Jerry! You know who did that?"

"I dunno, man," Jerry says apologetically.

"That would be a negative," Eugene says flatly, eyeing the wall.

"Justin," I bark, eyeing him where he sits, lounging around with a couple other Saviors. "Clean that up."

"How?" He questions.

"What do you mean,  _ how? _ " I demand. "Paint over it."

"We just used up all the paint," he informs me.

"Figure it out," I order.

It ain't fucking rocket science. Justin lets out a long suffering sigh and gets to his feet. I'd be willing to bet he's one of the assholes who been writing that shit all over the place anyway. Prick.

*Adrienne's POV*

"You see our crops, Rick?" Potter questions, stepping forward to shake Rick's hand.

Rick's a real hero around here. The man who put Negan behind bars. He's surrounded by a crowd of well wishers and I half expect he'll be signing autographs in the near future. It's not that I'm not grateful for him, I really am. I'd die if it meant he'd live and he knows that, but… I want Negan dead. Gone. Why the hell should he be alive after everything he's done? Daryl can't stand this place. He never wanted to be in charge. He's a good leader, there's no question, and he does what needs doing. But this isn't the life he wants and after the shit Negan put him through? Rick can explain himself til he's blue in the face, I will never understand why he put Daryl in charge here.

Spencer is gone. He would have died anyway, but that's not the point. Spencer, Olivia, Denise, Abraham, Glenn, Sasha, everyone we lost in the war… they're dead and Negan should be, too. I shake my head, tuning back into the conversation.

"I did," Rick nods.

"The spring storms will be here in a few weeks, help us out," Potter announces. "But we need a boost in the meantime."

"And you'll have it," Rick assures him.

"Here we go," I murmur, pulling Daryl's arm around my waist and nestling myself securely into his side.

"We came back with farming tools, heirloom seeds," Rick continues, turning to address the crowd at large. "We're looking to the past to help us with the present. We're all gonna pitch in and make sure that Sanctuary has what it needs so you can all get back on your feet."

"Bless you, Rick Grimes," Potter says emphatically. "Thank you."

Daryl scoffs quietly when the applause start. Rick Grimes, the people's hero. I know he doesn't do anything for glory, that's not who he is, but it's  _ how  _ it is. These people aren't ours. We don't owe them shit, especially not the Saviors. We could've killed them all that day on the hill, brought Negan's body back here to the workers. They'd've joined us. They're not fighters. Negan should be dead. The Saviors should be dead.

"I'm gon' talk to Rick," Daryl murmurs, catching Rick's eye and nodding at the landing a few floors above.

Rick disentangles himself from his fans, making his way over here.

"Okay," I turn in Daryl's arms, lacing my fingers at the back of his head and pulling his lips down to mine before he can release me. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he says softly. "Mrs. Dixon."

He kisses me one more time before disappearing upstairs with Rick.

*Daryl's POV*

At first, I didn't know what the hell I'd do if Adie wasn't here with me. Now I think it's actually worse, knowing she's miserable, too. I lead Rick up the stairs, away from everyone else. I gotta get the hell outta this place, I gotta get Adie outta here. I never wanted this. I think Rick can sense the anxiety rolling off my body. He's quiet for a moment, waiting for me to say something, but I ain't sure how to tell him what I'm feeling without turning it into a fight.

"What's up?" He asks finally.

"I don't wanna be the one leadin' these people anymore," I blurt, sighing.

"Okay," he says, tone measured, leaning over the railing. "Why?"

"I dunno," I mutter, leaning over the railing beside him. "Bein' here behind these walls again… it just don't feel right, man. I'm better out there. I always have been."

"What about Adrienne?"

"She's… she ain't happy here, neither. I thought it'd be better after a while, after she healed, but… she ain't."

He's quiet for a minute, pretending he don't see the tears. I'm grateful for that. I hate crying in front of anybody, even Rick. We ain't seen each other but maybe a couple dozen times since the night Adie started bleeding and we ain't talked about it. I think he knows I wanted it, that  _ we  _ wanted it. A family. It was supposed to just be one more fight and then it was gonna be better, it was gonna just be us again. Now everything's fucked all to hell and Adie's sad or pissed off more often than not and Negan's still alive and it's the fucking  _ same. _

"You kept this place together," Rick points out. "You kept people in line here. We can't just let the Sanctuary fail after everything that's happened."

"Man, it's gon' fail anyway," I snap. "Nothin' grows here. It's a fuckin'  _ factory, _ man. Look, when Negan was around, he needed people to provide for him. It's still the same, nothin's changed."

"No, it's different now," he counters, waving a hand. "We give what we give  _ willingly. _ "

"How long's that gonna last?" I demand. "Most of the bridges are out after the big storm. The highway's done. We've scavenged every  _ drop  _ of gas for miles. And we can't make enough corn fuel to run the cars or the trucks. Pretty soon, it's gonna be more 'n a day's ride from one spot to another."

"Well, it's on us to figure out how to make it work," he insists.

"Man, there ain't no  _ us  _ anymore," I mutter. "Everyone's everywhere. That small group we had back in the beginning… we could do anything.  _ That _ was right. That's what I know."

"Well, you wanna come home to Alexandria, then?"

"No."

Not Alexandria. I know where Adie wants to be, I've known it since we left after Siddiq did her last ultrasound to make sure nothin' else was coming out of her. I know where she wants to be and I wanna be where she's happy.

"We'll go back to Hilltop, check on Maggie 'n the baby."

"Well, you go, someone's gotta take your place," he sighs. "Rosita and Eugene are headed to Oceanside next. Maggie's sendin' food, but  _ not _ people, and Kingdom's got its own problems rebuilding after losin' its fighters. If Alexandria sends another person out, I could use the help back home."

He's right. But he ain't right. Everything about this place is wrong. It only worked Negan's way 'cause he had our people providing shit for him, and even if we never crossed paths it would've come toppling down eventually as resources got slimmer and slimmer. No gas to get food back here would've ended the Saviors whether we'd met up with 'em or not.

"Huh," he scoffs, sighing at my stony silence. "We're not together because things've changed."

"Mhmm," I nod. "Thing is… you changed 'em, Rick. But I get it."

I clap his shoulder and walk away. He knows how I feel. There's nothin' else I can do.

-

I didn't tell Adie, just fell into bed with her and forgot about things for a while. She didn't ask, neither. I think she knows I wanna leave. She's always had that weird thing like she can climb right into my head and poke around in there. I can't keep shit from her if I wanted to. But she don't push me, and that's another thing that's the same. She's constant. Makes me wonder when she's gonna be taken away, too. It's almost fucking unbearable to think about that, especially looking at her right now. She's sleeping, her bare skin shimmering almost stark white in the moonlight, hair strewn haphazardly over her face. She don't look like she's aged a  _ day _ since Atlanta. I wish I hadn't wasted all that time not knowing I loved her back then.

I need a smoke. I roll out of bed, careful not to wake her while I wander around the room gathering my clothes. Seems like between the two of us, we've each got at least one article of clothing in every corner of the room. It's kinda funny now. It ain't when it's 8 in the morning and we're still sleeping and somebody comes knocking on our door. I pull the sheets up over Adie, leaning down to breathe her in for just a second before I leave her. It's probably creepy, just smelling her head like this, but I've caught her doing the same shit to me so I don't feel weird about it. I asked her why once and she said there's just something about the smell of the person you love. It comforts her. It comforts me, too.

I pull our door closed, double and triple checking it's locked before making my way out to the loading dock. It's still a bit cold out, one of the last chilly nights before spring sets in. A few more months and it'll be miserably fucking hot again like back home. Adie says the heat here is nothing compared to what it's like in New Orleans in July. I said some shit about that mop on her head probably not helping matters and she elbowed me in the arm, all dimples and dancing eyes. I love that mop on her head.

Someone's out here. I pause, letting smoke roll over my tongue while I listen. It's Carol, I can tell by the way she walks. Like she's got somewhere to be and she's late. I exhale, watching the smoke billow out into the night, and offer her my cigarette. She takes it, promptly dropping it to the floor and grounding it out.

"Those things'll kill you," she announces, taking a seat next to me on the edge of the dock.

"Why aren't you in bed?" I sigh, letting the cigarette thing go.

"Why aren't you?" She counters, smirking. "Adie all worn out?"

"Shut up," I mutter, ears turning hot.

"We don't sleep," she says seriously. "Ezekiel, on the other hand, sleeps like a baby. It's annoying."

"Does he snore fancy, too?" I quip.

"Stop it," she chuckles, batting at my thigh.

"Nah, he's all right," I tell her, contrite. "He's a bit corny, but…"

"Glad I have Pookie's approval."

Pookie. I wish I could say I hate the name as much as I want to, but there's something so familiar about it now. Some things have changed. We're all spread out and it ain't how it's supposed to be, but we're still a family. It don't matter how far apart we are or how long it's been, that ain't never gonna change.

"After what I went through with Ed, corny is really, really nice," she murmurs.

"Well, I'm happy for you," I tell her sincerely. "If anybody deserves to be happy, it's you. I don't like not seein' you, though."

"Daryl," she sighs, falling silent and looking at her hands.

"Hmm?"

"I wanna take over here for a while, for you," she blurts. "And  _ don't _ argue."

I think about arguing for a second, but it's pointless. If Carol decides she wants to do something, I don't think Jesus Christ himself could stop her. Not that any of us believe in that shit these days, but you know what I mean.

"You gon' bring Henry and the King with you?"

"I haven't told him yet," she sighs heavily. "He asked me to marry him."

"What?"

"Yeah. And a part of me wanted to just say yes right then."

"Why didn't you?"

"The ring wasn't as sparkly as Adie's."

I just scoff. She don't give a shit about rings. Neither does Adie. I do like looking over at her and seeing it on her finger, though. She don't ever take it off. I'm sure the diamond is gonna fall out eventually and she's still gonna be wearing it. She told me she would've said yes if I'd proposed with a fucking bread tie. Actually she had a whole list of shit she'd have said yes to, including nothing at all. I told her what a coincidence, 'cause nothing at all is my favorite thing to see her in and she got that look of utter delight she gets when I stumble my way into saying anything even remotely smooth and promptly changed into my favorite outfit.

"I don't know," Carol sighs softly, pulling my attention back to the present tense. "I wanna help out, take my time, you know?"

I know she wants to take over for me, give me a break, but part of her is doing it for her, too. She don't know if she wants to marry Ezekiel yet. I see the way he looks at her, though. He'd wait forever. Makes his Shakespeare bullshit that much more tolerable.

"You want me to stay here with you?" I question.

"No," she shakes her head, adamant. "I want you to take Adie and get outta here. Just for a while."

She tucks her legs up under her body and scooches into my side, laying her head on my shoulder. This feels right. This is how it's supposed to be. Me and her and Adie. Rick, Michonne, Maggie… it's supposed to still be us, like it used to be, together.

*Adrienne's POV*

We're leaving. We're going to Hilltop. Carol's gonna watch things here, just for a little bit. It feels like a vacation, which is… really fucking weird. But I'm excited. At least, I'm excited all the way up until we're inside the gates at Hilltop, Maggie meeting Daryl, Rick, Michonne, and me as we dismount.

"What the hell happened to your face?" I demand, gently tilting her head to one side to examine her wound.

-

Gregory. Gregory got Earl, Kenny's father, drunk and suggested he attack Maggie. Hilltop had an election. They  _ chose _ Maggie as their leader and Gregory won't let it go. He tried to have her killed and Enid got hurt trying to save her. I'm livid. Gregory should've died with Negan and the rest of them. The people who are gone and the people who are still fucking here… it's not fair. We could make it fair. We could, but Rick won't. That's all I can think about, here on Maggie's balcony, watching Uncle Rick dote on baby Hershel. He looks like his daddy. Just like him. Glenn would be so proud.

"He's gotten so big," I murmur, tears welling in my eyes. "And he looks… he looks just like him."

"It's funny," Maggie smiles, watching Rick with her son. "And he knows it. He's a little stinker."

"He's just perfect," Rick chuckles. "He really is."

"Yeah," Maggie says happily. "I think I'll keep him."

"What's that?" I question, reaching for Hershel. "Are you sayin' you want a turn with the  _ coolest _ aunt on the planet?"

"I think Enid would fight you on that one," Maggie chuckles.

"And she would lose," I sing song, lifting the baby from Rick's arms and blowing a raspberry under his chin. "Isn't that right, Hershel?"

He cackles delightedly, winding his chubby little fingers into my hair like Judy used to do, and it hurts my heart. My baby would've been just a little younger than this. I think that's why Maggie tolerates me on the rare occasions we get to visit, why she makes sure to give me lots of time with her baby.

"Now that Hershel's a little older and you're goin' on runs again…" Rick starts, leaning against one of the support columns set into the railing. "I'd love for you to visit Alexandria some time, if you're up for it."

She won't go. I know she won't. It's the same reason I won't go and Daryl won't go and Rick knows it. He has to. Maggie sinks into one of her wooden rockers, scowling at the floor.

"Judith talks about Aunt Maggie at Hilltop all the time," he says imploringly, eyes flickering from Maggie's face to mine and back again. "Aunt Adie and Uncle Daryl, too. I'm surprised she still remembers you, but she does."

"Rick, I can't," Maggie says flatly, crossing her arms. "You know I can't. But you came about somethin' else."

"Oh…" he sighs. "Maggie, it can, it can wait."

"I'm okay," she assures him. "Just talk to me about anythin' else, please."

"All right," he agrees after a moment, taking a seat in the rocker beside Maggie's. "Well… I need your help fixin' the bridge. Hilltop's thriving… because of you. This place is doin' better than anywhere else, and you've been generous. Hilltop's given so much already, but… I'm askin' for more."

"What?" She demands warily.

"Sanctuary's still short on food," he explains. "And a project like this is gonna take a lot of people and supplies. I'm askin' if you'll be generous again, if you'll stretch."

"If my people wanna work on the bridge, I won't stop 'em," she hedges. "But no more food and supplies without gettin' somethin' back for it."

"What do you want?" He questions.

"If the Sanctuary needs food, I'll give it to 'em," she says, nodding at me. " _ But… _ they provide most of the labor on the bridge for us. And they send over all the fuel they've been makin' from their dead corn."

"We'll do it," I blurt.

We  _ need _ this bridge. It's the only thing connecting Daryl and me to anybody else. Carol's not gonna run Sanctuary forever. She's doing us a favor, doing Daryl a favor. Leading Sanctuary is killing him, but he'll do it. He'll keep going 'cause that's what Rick asked him to do. Like it or not, Sanctuary is ours for now. But it's gonna fall. Sooner than later, the hungrier people get. I know Daryl and me will be okay, that's not a question. We'll play it out. There's no reason we can't provide the labor for the bridge. It's about damn time the Saviors knew what it's like to actually have to do shit themselves, really be out there doing something.

"Sanctuary's barely holdin' on right now," Rick argues, casting a sidelong glare in my direction. "We're obliged to help."

"Rick," I hiss sharply, gently laying an almost sleeping Hershel down in his playpen before straightening up, nodding at Maggie. "We'll do it."

"Daryl-"

"Is gonna feel the same way," I interrupt before Rick can say different. "Sanctuary's gotten a free ride all this time. They're doin' it our way, now. They're gonna work for what they have just like everybody else."

"They surrendered," Maggie points out. "We didn't kill 'em. That's it. I can't solve all their problems when I clearly have things to take care of here."

"Maggie, I'm so sorry this happened to you and Enid-"

"I've survived  _ worse, _ " Maggie cuts him off. "But it has to stop," she gets to her feet, crossing to the railing before turning back to face Rick. "When we were fightin' the Saviors, you told me that soon, you'd be the one followin' me. But you didn't."

He looks like she may well have just slapped him. She's right. I remember that day, I can still hear her screaming, feel her sobbing in my arms.

_ It isn't over until he's dead! _

I held her back. I held her back even though all I wanted to do was rip Negan's throat out, watch him die like we had to watch Glenn and Abraham die. I held onto her all the way back to Hilltop and she held onto me for the next week and a half while I did nothing but lay in her bed and bleed and cry. I should've let her go. I should've let her do it 'cause now everything's messed up and Daryl's sad and maybe if Negan died that day, everything else would've been okay.

"'Cause I wasn't someone to follow," Maggie continues. "That changes now. It'll be dark soon. It's time to put the children to bed."

*Daryl's POV*

It's dark. Maggie instated a curfew for all the kids at Hilltop tonight. They don't need to see this. I think I do. Adie does, too. It's time at least one person actually got what they deserved. All this letting shit just slide ain't okay. All the adults are gathered around the gallows Maggie had 'em start building this morning. Gallows. We really have gone back in time. Maybe Ezekiel's whole king thing ain't all that out there anymore.

"I don't  _ want  _ to do this," Maggie sighs. "But people need to understand that at Hilltop, the punishment fits the crime."

There's no mistaking that last bit was for Rick's benefit. He wouldn't kill Negan. That's not how it works here. If you try to kill somebody here, Maggie  _ will _ kill you back. Eye for an eye.

"Do you have any final words?" She demands, turning her gaze to Gregory.

He's seated atop one of Maggie's horses, hands bound at his back. Courtesy of Adie. She helped Maggie string him up and they weren't gentle about it, neither. Every time I look at Maggie's battered face, it pisses me off all over again. It's about time there was some justice in the world again.

"What you're doing isn't right," Gregory sobs. "Somebody stop this!  _ Please. _ Killing me in the dead of night because you're ashamed."

"You're wrong," Maggie counters. "I'm not ashamed."

She gives me a nod. It's time. This is the only part of this Adie don't like. She says the horse didn't do nothin'. She volunteered to just push him off the top and let him hang, but we can't risk the rope snapping. We want the execution clean. The horse'll be just fine. I'll give him a sugar cube later for the trouble.

"Stop this! Please! Now, for the love of God, stop it!  _ Please! _ "

His pleading is cut short when I smack the horse’s hindquarters and he lurches forward, galloping away, leaving Gregory hanging about three feet from the ground. It ain't pretty. His neck didn't snap, he wasn't high up enough, and he's thrashing, choking, turning purple in the face. And there are kids out here, two of 'em.

"Get the children back in bed!" Maggie orders, horrified.

It's over quick, less than a minute. Might've been more humane to just let Adie slit his throat, and she offered. Twice. But Maggie wanted people to see it.

"I made this decision," she announces. "But this is not the beginning of something. I don't wanna go through it again," she turns to Adie. "Cut him down."

Adie nods solemnly, unsheathing her knife and hacking at the length of rope coiled around one of the support beams. Gregory hits the ground with a heavy thud and, even though Maggie said she ain't starting nothin', it don't feel like it's over. It don't feel like justice, not all the way.

But it's a start.


	3. Are We On The Same Side?

**Chapter 3**

*Adrienne's POV*

It's day 35 and the new bridge is so close to done. It's bittersweet. I don't want to be done, not yet. We need this bridge, and I know that, but… but it feels like it used to. Yeah, we've got a lot of extras, but it's us again and we're  _ doing _ something. It feels like the days at the prison, back when we thought maybe my dad was gone for good. We were building then, too. It feels good. Thanks to Carol, Daryl and I have been splitting our time between Hilltop and the bridge camp, and that feels good, too. It reminds me there's a world outside the Sanctuary, and we don't have to be there all the time.

When the bridge is done, I'm gonna talk to Rick. I still hate Laura, I hate the way she looks at Daryl like there's a chance in hell, like she can take him from me through sheer force of will, but I'll admit she's proven herself. She could take over Sanctuary, she could lead, and Daryl and I could leave. I still think Sanctuary will fall eventually, but those are later problems. I know it's selfish, but I'd like those later problems not to be Daryl's later problems. He misses being out here and he misses being with  _ our _ people. I think we could work it out with Rick and Maggie, some kind of scout for a week, stay at Hilltop for a week, scout another week, come back to Kingdom, rinse and repeat. Best of both worlds.

"In regards to our makeshift levee upstream," Eugene says, only halfway through his morning rundown, he, Rick, and I making our way through the camp. "Given the current rate of spring runoff, I'd put it's expiration date at another six to nine days. After that, it's slam, blam, sayonara cofferdam."

"Well, how fast can we have those supports ready?" Rick asks.

"A week?" I guess, squinting at the supports in question.

"Ditto on the six to nine," Eugene confirms. "But if we boost our juice and shed the lead, I think we can beat it."

"Good," Rick nods. "I'll talk to the foreman, make sure we do."

"Scouts got back," Rosita announces, falling into step with us. "Horatio's gonna pass us by, but it'll be close."

"We got a head count?" Rick questions.

"Hundred and change."

"That's double what it was two days ago," I point out. "If it keeps growin' like that…"

"What, you think we should push the blasting?" Rosita questions, arching an eyebrow.

We've been tracking the surrounding herds for weeks, trying to figure out when exactly to blast a big ass chunk of rubble out of our way. Today's the day.

"Nah," Rick shakes his head. "If we wait, we'll end up drawin' that other herd."

"Shit," I hiss. "Margaret."

"Right," Rick confirms. "And that one's five times as big. We got the sirens in place?"

"Hell, yeah," Rosita grins. 

"Then we blow the rockslide. If the herd comes, we'll redirect."

"All right, I'll let 'em know," Rosita nods, heading back in the direction she'd come.

"Anything on those walk-offs?" Rick questions.

"As of head count this  _ mañana, _ we're down one more Savior," Eugene sighs. "That's six in the past month."

Both men turn to stare at me.

"What?" I shrug. "I'm not in charge of 'em."

"I'll talk to Carol about it," Rick says wearily.

"Roger that and wilco," Eugene nods, continuing to flip through his notes as the three of us approach the med tent.

Enid's stitching up what looks to be a particularly nasty cut on Cyndie's palm while Siddiq observes.

"How's the star student doin'?" Rick questions.

"Ready to take on anything," Siddiq grins confidently.

"Good," Rick nods. "She's gonna get her chance. I'd like you to head back home. There's a bug goin' around."

"Judy?" I blurt, my stomach flipping.

I can't help it. Ever since that flu back at the prison, the thought of anyone I love having even so much as a cold terrifies the bejeezus outta me.

"Is fine," Rick assures me.

"I'll head out on the next escort," Siddiq agrees readily.

"Wait, he's leaving?" Enid demands, her head whipping around so fast I'm surprised it didn't spin, accidentally sticking Cyndie a little too hard.

"Ow!"

"Sorry," Enid shakes her head, collecting herself. "Uh, it's fine," she chuckles weakly. "I, I've got this."

"You'll be fine," I assure her.

"My final line item is foodstuffs, or lack thereof."

"Eugene, could you please not call it that?" I gripe, moving on from the med tent with my boys in tow. "It's so...  _ ambiguous. _ "

"Alexandria is stretched wafer-thin supplyin' grub to both the camp and the Sanctuary," he continues, a curt nod in my direction the only indication he'd heard my request at all. "Meanin' our wafer-slim pickins're gettin' wafer-slimmer by the day."

"Yeah," Rick sighs. "Michonne's on it."

"Adie, can you help me with the levee?" Henry questions, materializing at my side. "Mom made me promise I wouldn't go alone and you're not doin' anything."

Mom? That's new. Carol seems to have gotten over her aversion to kids, but I'm not sure how she'd feel about Henry calling her that. He's right though, I'm not doing anything, and, even though I've come to appreciate Eugene more than I used to, I can only handle so much of him at a time.

"Sure, bud."

*Daryl's POV*

"So I go in after her nap and pick her up," Aaron says breathlessly.

He's been regaling me on the joys of single parenting for the last half hour while we lay down two by fours and nail 'em into place. It's nice being around him again, even if he does like to compare beards. His puts mine to shame. I don't give a shit, but he likes to brag and I don't mind letting him.

"And the diaper just…  _ explodes, _ " he continues. "All over me."

"Sounds like good times," I mutter around the nail between my teeth, chuckling softly.

"Oh, the best," he says happily. "You'll see."

I just look at him. He's been trying to get me to talk about it. It don't hurt like it did when it was fresh, but I know Adie still thinks about it every day. Thing is, I think we both know how hard it would be, trying to take care of a baby at Sanctuary. With Negan alive, that's where we'd've ended up anyway, and we're gonna have to go back when this is all done. It ain't no place for a baby. Aaron clearly disagrees, but he don't know what it's like there.

"What?" He questions, the picture of innocence. "You'd be a great dad."

"Yeah," I scoff, pounding a nail into the end of the plank under our knees.

"C'mon," he chuckles, gesturing to where Adie is trailing along a few feet behind Henry, watching him like a hawk while he delivers water rations to everybody, eyeing the Saviors warily. "Look at her and tell me you're not thinking about trying again."

She catches me staring like I knew she would, breaking into a grin. That smile is something so fucking rare anymore, I swear my heart skips a beat. Aaron just laughs.

*Adrienne's POV*

I know Rick's worried about the Savior walk-offs, but I'm not. As far as I'm concerned, they could all walk out and we'd be better for it. I don't trust them. Which is why I'm keeping an eye on Henry instead of picking up a hammer. He's making the water rounds and it's Justin's turn and I just have a feeling he's gonna be a pain in the ass. He always is and, from the looks of things, today's no exception.

"No," Henry says adamantly, refusing Justin a refill. "No, there's not enough. You can't."

"Give it a rest, kid," Justin mutters with a smirk, yanking the cooler from Henry's hands and shoving him to the ground.

He lifts the cooler high above his head, drinking straight from the tap. Henry's eyes flicker to mine questioningly, looking for permission. I nod my assent. This should be fun. Henry gets to his feet, sticking the wooden staff he carries between Justin's legs and knocking the grown man on his ass. Morgan taught him well.

"Back off!" He snarls, snatching the cooler from the ground and stalking off to finish his job.

"Hey, man," Jed cackles, watching Justin struggle to process what the hell just happened to him. "It's cool. I got my ass handed to me by a kid one time, too. Of course, I was six at the time."

Justin sneers, leaping to his feet and moving to follow Henry.

"Hey!" I hiss, stepping in front of him. "Quit while you're ahead, sport."

"Easy, Red," he simpers, eyes flashing. "I'm just gonna talk to him."

I scoff, placing one hand flat against his chest and shoving him backward. He takes a swing at me but I duck, snatching my knife from my belt, grabbing him by the elbow and twisting his arm behind his back. I throw him up against one of the support beams, my blade flush with his throat. My heart is racing, blood thundering in my ears, my grip on my knife painfully tight.

"Adie!" Daryl barks, cutting through the haze.

Justin's terrified, I can see it in his eyes. He knows I could kill him so easily. I want to. Hell, I'd be doing him a favor at this point. Jed's never gonna let him live this down. As if it wasn't enough a kid knocked him on his ass, now he's being thrown around by a girl.

"Adie," Daryl says again, softer this time, a firm hand on my shoulder. "He ain't worth it."

I scowl, increasing the pressure on Justin's throat just a little. But Daryl's right. He's not worth it.

"You ever touch him again," I breathe, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "You look at him, you talk to him, you even  _ breathe  _ in his direction… I will slit your throat and I will  _ watch _ you turn, are we clear?"

"You crazy bitch," he spits, false bravado firmly back in place.

"Are we  _ clear? _ " I repeat.

He doesn't have to say it. He knows and I know and that's enough for now. I push off of him, smiling sweetly and sliding my knife back into its sheath.

"Get back to work," Daryl orders.

"I don't need you people tellin' me what to do," Justin hisses. "You're not my babysitter anymore."

He turns to leave, probably off to sulk somewhere, but Daryl's not having that. He grabs at Justin's arm, the other man whirling around and swinging. Again, he's too slow, Daryl dodging the punch and hurling his fist at his face. Justin hits the ground again, this time landing in one of the sand piles dotting the unfinished bridge. He scoops up a handful and flings it into Daryl's eyes. What a fucking chicken shit. I lunge for him, but Aaron grabs me from behind, holding me back.

"Let me go!" I snarl, watching in horror as Justin hurls himself at Daryl, fist colliding with his jaw.

"No," Aaron insists. "He can handle it."

I don't know what it is about a fight that draws this kind of manic attention, but the work on the bridge has ceased altogether, a crowd forming a circle around the men, and I stop struggling against Aaron's grip only when Jed moves in, going for Daryl's back. Aaron releases me in favor of Jed, holding him back instead. At this point, Daryl's winning the fight despite the bullshit Justin pulled with the dirt. He's got him pressed up against the supports, hurling punch after punch, and I know it shouldn't excite me, I know that, but it does.

"Hey!" Rick hollers, hurtling over the bridge and through the cheering mob. "Hey! Break it up! Break it up right now!"

Both men ignore him, Justin choosing instead to use the distraction to get in one last punch before they're inevitably separated.

"I said enough!" Rick roars, shoving Justin into a group of Saviors, who obediently hold him back. "Enough."

Daryl's still pacing in short, angry lengths, I think trying to decide if it's worth going through Rick to get to Justin. Ultimately he decides it's not, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground at Rick's boots and stalking away, fury rolling off him in waves as he disappears into the camp. Rick watches him for a moment before turning back to the crowd.

"Go back to work," he orders, catching me by the hand when I attempt to follow Aaron. "You're comin' with me."

*Daryl's POV*

I should've let Adie kill the sumbitch. Rick's got us and Carol gathered in his tent, having spent the last twenty minutes chewing me out for fighting and lecturing Adie on her involvement when she tried to defend me.

"So that asshole just gets a free pass?" I demand. "Is that it?"

"It's  _ just _ a few more days," Rick says, frustration lacing his voice. "I don't like it either, but we're in a rush to get that work done."

"Yeah," Adie hisses. "'Cause of the water situation, right? That's what started this whole thing, Rick, we're better off without 'im."

"He's  _ strong, _ " Rick insists. "The Saviors are over half the workforce, and we've had too many walk off already."

"Yeah, 'cause that's who they are," I tell him flatly. "Some of 'em ain't ever gonna fall in line just 'cause you say so."

"Daryl's right," Carol points out. "These people have never had to live together. And we can't expect them to just forget what happened."

"It hasn't been easy," Rick shakes his head. "I know. It won't be, not for a while, but… it's not about forgetting. It's about  _ moving ahead, _ all of us, together."

Adie scoffs, raking her fingers through her hair, opening her mouth like she's gonna say something, then closing it abruptly, wheeling around and disappearing out the door.

"We keep doin' that," Rick continues, unfazed. "They'll see we're all on the same side."

"Are we, though?" I question, tearing my eyes from Adie's retreating form.

He freezes, betrayal flashing in his eyes, but I mean it. I don't feel guilty about it, neither. We ain't on the same side, we ain't been us for a long time. Me, Adie, and Maggie, we're on his side, but he sure as hell ain't on ours.

"Are we on the same side, Rick?" I repeat, eyes boring into his.

"Well, you tell me," he says defensively.

"Thing is, man, I've been tryin' to," I hiss. "But you don't seem to wanna hear it."

And I'm done talking in circles, saying the same shit a dozen different ways and backwards like talking to a fucking wall. I'm done. I duck out of the tent before he can respond.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Pull, woman," Jed grunts, chuckling.

"Shut the fuck up, Jed," I snarl.

Daryl, Aaron, and I took a crew out for more lumber. DIYs were so much simpler back in the days of Home Depot. Jed and I are standing atop the log pile we've been stacking all morning, ropes in hand. We've leaned two logs up against the pile to form a ramp, Aaron and another Savior who's name I don't give a single shit about on the ground, lifting the logs from the bottom while me and Jed pull. It's miserable work. With each layer of finished logs, the stack grows higher and we have to jump back down to ground, adjust the ramp, loop the ropes around a new log, yank that son of a bitch to the top, over and over again.

"You know," Jed says breathlessly. "It's kinda hot the way you put Justin in his place, Mrs. D."

"Yeah?" I hiss, gritting my teeth against the pain of my burning muscles. "It's kinda hot when you shut the fuck up."

Whatever retort he had planned never makes it past his lips. The mules we'd brought along start braying frantically a split second before the tell tale snarls of the dead reach my ears.

"A herd's comin'!" Daryl hollers. "Bug out, now!"

"Son of a bitch," I hiss, eyeing the walkers.

Horatio, it's gotta be. The redirect failed, they're supposed to be miles away. Somebody fucked up or maybe they're dead, but either way, we gotta go.

"Oh, Jesus," Jed gasps. "We gotta get the hell outta here."

He drops the rope, sending his end of the log hurtling towards the Savior below.

"Look out!" Aaron shouts, shoving the Savior out of the way.

Without Jed, I'm not strong enough to hold it. The log falls, crushing Aaron beneath its weight.

*Daryl's POV*

Aaron's stuck, one arm pinned underneath the log Jed was supposed to be helping Adie hold up. She's on her knees beside him, desperately trying to lift the log just enough to free his arm, and she's doing it alone. Jed and the other Saviors fucking ran, like they always will. She ain't strong enough to move that thing by herself.

"Get them mules outta here!" I order, pointing one Savior towards the animals before turning to Jed. "You! Get over here right now!"

Jed and one other Savior meet me at the fallen log, the three of us joining Adie's efforts, but it ain't enough. It ain't enough and they're still coming, at least a hundred of 'em.

"Go!" Aaron snarls. "Get outta here!  _ Go! _ "

"We're not leavin' you!" Adie hisses, nodding at the walkers just a yard away now.

"Keep on 'im!" I instruct, getting to my feet.

It's just three of 'em too close, it only takes a minute to put 'em down, but by the time I turn back to Aaron, they've got the log lifted just enough. I crouch down, helping jim up.

"Oh, shit!" Jed blurts, horrified, staring at Aaron's mangled arm.

It's broken. Bad. One of the bones is showing through his torn, bloody skin, and I'd be willing to bet on the other being crushed down to nothing, the way his arm is just sort of hanging.

"C'mon," I hiss, lifting his good arm over my shoulders. "Get up. Get up!"

Adie takes off running, taking out the walkers in front of us, clearing a path, but she can't be everywhere and the Saviors ain't watching our backs. A walker latches onto my right side and I'm sure I'm about to be bit when an arrow soars through the air and lodges itself into the dead bastard's eyeball. Beatrice from Oceanside. Rick and Carol and everybody else are here and we're gonna be okay.

"We got this!" Rick assures me as I pass, Aaron barely holding on to consciousness. "Get him back to camp."

"On it!" I holler, sprinting into the woods after Adie.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Where's Siddiq?" Daryl demands when we finally manage to get Aaron to the med tent.

"He went back to Alexandria," I inform him, helping lie Aaron down.

"He's gone," Enid confirms. "It's just me."

"It's just you, then," Daryl nods, pulling the scrap of shirt we'd wrapped around the wound from Aaron's arm.

My stomach lurches at the sight and Enid balks, breathing heavily while she assesses the damage.

"I have to amputate," she announces firmly, scurrying about the tent and gathering supplies.

"What?" Aaron whimpers, what little color was left draining from his face.

"There ain't no other way?" Daryl demands.

"It's the only way to stop the bleeding, is to amputate and cauterize the wound."

"What can I do?" I question, prompting Enid to shove a textbook into my hands.

"Here," she says, tapping the page -a heavily detailed diagram with instructions on how to perform an amputation- once before tearing towards a cabinet to retrieve her tray and utensils. "You can keep this open."

"You got somethin' for the pain?" Daryl grunts, tying a rubber band around Aaron's bicep.

"It wouldn't kick in fast enough," she replies. "We have to do this now."

Aaron's guttural groans intensify as Daryl pulls the tourniquet tight, and I can't imagine the kind of pain he's in.

"Oh, sorry, man," Daryl breathes.

"I need you to hold him down for me," Enid tells him, setting her tray down on a small table beside Aaron's cot.

Aaron's sobbing now, maybe from pain or maybe from being unable to reconcile reality just now, but probably both, and Daryl places a hand flat over his chest, holding him steady.

"Adie, get that light," Enid commands, pointing out an emergency flashlight on a shelf near the foot of the cot.

I nod, snatching the flashlight and flicking the switch, holding it high. Enid pauses, knife in hand, collecting herself. Of all the days for Siddiq to be gone. She's gotta be scared shitless. Aaron, on the other hand, seems to have accepted his fate.

"You can do it," he assures her, clapping his good hand over Daryl's. "Do it!"

She slices into his arm, just below the crease of his elbow, and the howl he releases is ungodly. I force myself to watch, trying my damnedest to keep that light exactly where Enid needs it, but when the nauseating sound of metal on bone fills the air, even Daryl can't look. Still, he stays, holding it together for Aaron, right until the end.

*Daryl's POV*

"You did it," Adie murmurs, watching Aaron's chest rise and fall.

Enid smiles weakly, cleaning up the mess with trembling hands. She did it. Aaron's sleeping now, pain meds and antibiotics flowing through his veins. He's gonna be alright. Once he learns to live without his fucking arm. That herd was supposed to be miles away. Everything was in place. Somebody fucked up. I only leave Aaron 'cause Adie's there and I know she ain't gonna let nothin' happen to him while I figure this shit out. I stalk through the camp and into Rick's tent. Carol's already there, yelling at somebody, I can hear her. I don't give a shit what she's got going on right now, it can wait.

"Who was supposed to turn that herd?" I demand, bursting into the tent.

Justin. She was yelling at Justin. First he tried to beat up a kid, then he swung at Adie, now Aaron almost  _ died  _ 'cause of him. I don't give a fuck what Rick wants, this is done.

"Hey, the walkie wasn't charged," he says, just calm as can be.

"Bullshit," I hiss. "It's a  _ solar _ walkie. You didn't think to check it?"

"It's not my fault the radio's a piece of shit," he protests.

The radios are fine.  _ He's _ a piece of shit and I ain't gonna have it anymore. He's gonna get people killed. I hit him. Hard. He stumbles backward out of the tent and I follow, hitting him again and again. He'd stumbled over a bunch of dishes on his way out of the tent, leaving a conveniently placed pot just lying in the dirt. I snatch it from the ground, hefting it and bringing it down on his face. He goes sprawling into the dirt and he ain't fighting back no more, but it ain't enough. It ain't.

"Daryl, stop!" Carol cries.

I ain't listening though. I'm on one knee, leaning over this sorry shit, hurling punch after punch at his face. I can't stop. I don't think I could stop if I wanted to.

"Daryl!"

I still ain't listening, but the next time I wind my arm back, it don't come forward again 'cause she's holding onto it.

"I  _ said, _ " she snarls, breathless. " _ Stop. _ "

Christ. He ain't dead, but he ain't getting up and I'm thinking maybe that's gonna have to work for now 'cause everyone's staring at me, all crowded around, and right in front is Henry. He's just a kid. He shouldn't be seeing this.

"We'll deal with him," Carol promises once I've caught my breath and I'm halfway sane again. "But not like this."

"There's only one way to deal with these assholes," I mutter.

Still, I walk away. Seems I'm doing a lot of that lately.


	4. Beg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains smut. Proceed with caution if you're not comf with that.

**Chapter 4**

*Adrienne's POV*

"You're pissed at me, too."

Rick came to me after dinner wanting to discuss what happened with Daryl and Justin. It feels almost like it used to, like back at the farm or the prison or those early days in Alexandria, when he'd come to me and ask what I thought about whatever bullshit we were dealing with on any given day and actually gave a shit what I had to say about it. I'm only out here 'cause I had to get water for Aaron, who just lost his fucking  _ arm _ and could've died 'cause of the shithead Rick wouldn't let Daryl take care of.

Of course I'm pissed.

"Adie, just… just, wait, just talk to me," he pleads, grabbing me by the shoulder and forcing me to face him.

"You're not gonna like anything I have to say," I mutter coldly.

"And it's Tuesday," he quips, but I'm not joking. "I, I don't understand why-"

"Aaron almost died today," I hiss. "Daryl's been tryin' to tell you and you're not hearin' him. The Saviors aren't gonna change, not ever, and you keepin'  _ Negan  _ alive? You didn't end the war, Rick, you  _ benched _ the enemy. It isn't over til he's dead."

"I'm  _ tryin' _ to-"

I know what he's trying to do, so it doesn't much matter when he's interrupted.

"Hey, you need to keep your dog on his leash," Justin announces, sauntering past Rick and me with far too much confidence for a man with that many bruises on him.

"Excuse me?" Rick demands, stepping in front of me before I can make a move.

"You heard me," Justin says, wheeling around to face him. "That bitch of yours damn near killed me over nothin'."

"Someone almost  _ died  _ 'cause of you," I spit. "That's not nothin'."

"I know you," Rick murmurs, striding towards the other man. "See, I used to be a cop. And every Saturday night, I'd pick up some dipshit like you, have to listen to him run his mouth in the back of my car,  _ every  _ one of 'em tryin' to blame someone else for their own damn problems."

"I don't need to listen to this," Justin scoffs, chuckling.

" _ Wrong! _ " Rick snarls. "You're gonna stand there and listen to every word. Now, I gave you the benefit of the doubt. That is  _ done. _ Now, you pack your shit and get outta here first thing in the morning. If I see your face again, stitches won't fix what I do to you."

"Wouldn't stay if you begged me," Justin huffs, still puffing his chest like he's got the upper hand. "I'm not waiting til morning, either."

He stalks off and Rick turns to face me, seemingly surprised to find me grinning.

"What?"

"Nothin'," I shrug. "It's just nice to have you back, Sheriff."

*Daryl's POV*

I'm about to go out and see what the hell's taking Adie so long when she ducks into the tent, full canteen in hand, Rick in tow. He's one of the last people I wanna see 'cause I know he's probably been working up another damn speech about working together and it pisses me off just a little that he and Adie came in here chuckling and elbowing at each other like they used to. Rick's face falls when his eyes land on Aaron's bandage.

"Well done," he blurts, nodding to Enid. "He's gonna be alright?"

"Yeah," she murmurs, taking the canteen from Adie's hands with a grateful sigh. "If we can keep the wound from getting infected. But he's still in a lot of pain."

"He's holdin' on, though," I assure him.

"Damn right I am," Aaron mumbles weakly.

I get up from the chair at his bedside, switching places with Rick. Adie moves to stand behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her chin on my shoulder. It's nice. We ain't had much time to just be with each other and we're usually too exhausted at night to do anything but collapse on top of our sleeping bags and pass out.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you," Rick whispers fervently. "We were all supposed to be workin' together, I thought we  _ were. _ "

"You couldn't've known," Aaron breathes.

"I've been pushin' everyone hard," Rick sighs, glancing over his shoulder at me before turning back to Aaron. "I know I have. I put this project first… and you paid the price."

"It was  _ worth _ it," Aaron nods. "When the dead started to rise… I thought I was seeing the end of everything. But you changed all that, Rick. It's not the end of the world anymore. It's the start of a whole new one. I'll always be glad I was here to be a part of that."

Adie's arms tighten around me, her lips pressing softly to the back of my neck. It could be the start. It could be, but we gotta tie up our loose ends first. Nothing's gonna change my mind about that. Negan's gotta die. The Saviors, too. It can't be them  _ and _ us, it can only just be us.

*Adrienne's POV*

Shortly after Rick left the med tent, Aaron kicked Daryl and me out on the grounds his arm, and I quote,  _ 'will still be gone tomorrow.' _ I didn't think it was gonna work, but Daryl's leading me from the tent out into the camp, where most of our people are still awake, chattering and laughing together, and in the far corner…

"Damn," Daryl grunts, watching Ezekiel slide a ring onto Carol's finger. "Would've thought he'd have a fancy speech or some shit."

"Yeah," I chuckle. "She'd love that, the whole camp watching the King wax poetic about the  _ exact _ hue of her eyes by firelight."

Daryl laughs softly, a genuine laugh. I haven't heard that sound in so long. It's my favorite. I smile up at him, pulling his hand to my lips and pressing a kiss to the heel of his palm.

"Think she'll kick my ass if I start callin' her the queen?" I murmur, watching Ezekiel grin and drop a kiss on the top of Carol's head.

"I think she'd kick your ass for even thinkin' it," Daryl scoffs.

"It'd be worth it."

"Yeah."

"I mean, I bet I could outrun her."

"Yeah."

It's quiet for a moment, each of us lost in our own heads. I wonder if he's thinking about the night he put a ring on my finger. I glance down at my hand, the diamond gleaming in the firelight.

"Daryl?"

"Hmm?"

"When you said we could try…" I trail off, taking a fortifying breath before continuing. "Did you mean it?"

I'm almost convinced he didn't hear me, but then his lips are on mine.

-

"I don't think you can."

"I can."

"What're you willin' to bet on it?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, dragging his teeth up the column of my neck. I inhale sharply, biting back the moan blooming in the back of my throat. He's got me pinned beneath him on top of the two sleeping bags we'd zipped together to make one big bag, his eyes boring into mine, the tip of his cock resting just over my clit, and I swear I'm gonna implode. I arch against him, desperately attempting to create some fucking  _ friction, _ and he chuckles, holding my hands above my head.

"I can be quiet, Daryl," I insist, frustrated, trying to wrap my legs around him and pull him to me, but he's just far enough back I can't, and  _ holy shit, _ why?

Still, I can't deny the thrill I get when he's like this. Cocky. He knows exactly how to put me right on the edge and he enjoys every fucking second of it. But I know how to get to him, too.

"Please, Daryl," I whimper, biting my lip and staring up at him, watching the shift in his eyes as he struggles to keep control. "Please, I need it."

"Oh, god damn it," he growls.

I bite down on his shoulder as he finally drives into me, his breath hot and ragged against my ear. He pounds mercilessly into me and, for a few seconds, the only sounds are coming from our bodies colliding, but I was wrong. I can't, it's too good, he just…

" _ Fuck, _ Daryl," I whimper breathlessly, grinding up against him, fingernails digging into his back. "I lied. I can't do it quiet, I can't, I… oh,  _ fuck, _ just  _ please… _ "

I fall apart beneath him, pleasure rocking through my body, stealing my breath away.

"Adrienne…" he grunts, slowing his pace and rolling his hips against mine while I recover. "You gotta… you gotta tell me, I ain't… I ain't gon' be able to stop."

"I know," I pant, bucking desperately against him. "Keep goin'. Daryl, keep goin', I want it. Please."

I forget every word I know that's not his name when he drives back into me, hard and fast, and how the  _ fuck _ does he move like that? But he's getting sloppy, his thrusts becoming erratic, and he's so close, he's so close. His eyes meet mine, desperate and questioning.

"Come inside, Daryl," I whisper. "I don't want you to stop."

"Adie," he whimpers, burying himself inside me, filling me, trembling, and I forgot how fucking good this feels.

He collapses over me, chest heaving against mine, and… and I'm not scared this time. Me and Daryl can do anything. We're still us.

*Daryl's POV*

"What the hell's goin' on now?" Adie gripes sleepily, the two of us yanking our clothes back on quickly as we're able.

Figures after one good night, everything would turn to shit first thing this morning. There's no easing into it today. We hurl ourselves from our tent and into the battle brewing between the Saviors and the rest of us. Maggie's here and Justin's back. He's dead.

"Guess they're gonna execute every last one of us!" Jed hollers. "Just like Justin!"

"Not if we have guns, too!" Regina shouts.

Laura and Arat are trying to calm the Saviors down, but it ain't working, several of them breaking away and lunging for Rosita and Gabriel. Then it's all of 'em, colliding in the middle, at each other's throats.

"Hey!" Alden roars. "Hey! Stop this shit! Stop! Stop it! Stop it!"

The crowd simmers down some, just long enough to listen to whatever the hell their Golden Boy's got to say. I'm ready for this, though. We can take these guys out. It was always gonna be this and Rick ain't here to stop it this time.

"We're gonna find out who did this," Alden announces. "And we're gonna make sure it never happens to us again, alright?"

"Us?" Jed repeats. "You're not one of us anymore."

"Us means  _ all  _ of us," Alden says breathlessly.

Jed don't like that, hurling a fist at Alden's face.

"Go shovel that horse shit to whoever killed Justin!" He snarls, winding back to hit him again.

Carol steps in, one hand on Jed's chest, the other on the handgun strapped to her belt.

"I thought you were supposed to be our leader," Jed snarks.

"Enough," Carol says flatly. "Turn around, all of you."

"No can do, C," Jed sighs. "Why don't you go ahead and yank that roscoe, pop me right here? It's better than worryin' about gettin' it in the  _ back. _ "

"Shit," Adie mutters, pulling the gun from her waistband when at least a dozen of our people, including Carol, draw their own weapons.

"We don't want this!" Laura insists. "Hey, we just need to protect ourselves."

"No guns!" I snarl, our people turning to stare at me and Adie behind them.

I can see by the looks on their faces, at least some of 'em think I did Justin. I didn't. I was a little fucking busy, but if I knew who did it I'd give 'em a damn medal.

"That 'cause you're the one took out Justin?" DJ demands.

"Nah," the Savior next to him argues. "My money's on the ginger bitch. Or garbage lady."

Adie just scoffs, rolling her eyes.

"Revenge for Simon's play," Regina muses, eyeing Anne. "Sure."

Anne didn't do it. If she was gonna try and get revenge for Simon killing all her people, she'd have made her move a year ago when we started all this peace and harmony bullshit.

"No," DJ insists, accusatory eyes never leaving my face. "It's him. Finishing what he started."

He stalks a few feet away to retrieve an axe leaning idle against a tree, his buddy and Arat tailing him.

"Hey, hey!" Arat protests. "Stop. It's gonna go too far."

"Nah," I bark, raising my crossbow. "It won't."

"Maybe it's both of 'em," DJ suggests, eyes flickering between my bow and Adie's barrel. "Come on."

A pack of Saviors moves in, every intention of fighting their way through our people to get to us, but before anyone can fire a shot or throw another punch, Rick comes galloping into the fray. It'd be way more poetic if his horse was white. It ain't. He ain't no damn white knight. Just another asshole on a horse.

"Everyone back off!" He orders. "Right now!"

"All right," Laura says, turning to her people. "We are not doing this. Let it go."

"I'll talk to Rick," Alden assures them. "I'll try and find a way to make everybody feel safe, all right?"

After a few more moments of loaded silence, Jed shakes his head and walks away, DJ and the others following suit.

"Start the redirect," Rick commands. "Pair off, groups of twos and threes, work the grid."

-

Adie's out with Maggie and Cyndie. Guess Rick trusts her enough not to go around killing Saviors, or maybe he's just already made up his mind I did it. I knew he'd come to me eventually, so I've been sticking close by, waiting.

"Go ahead," I prompt after several moments of Rick just sitting here watching me sharpen my knife. "Ask."

"That wound on Justin…" he starts. "Looks like a puncture. I wondered if it could be from a knife, but it's small, round, and clean. Smaller and cleaner than a bullet hole. Kinda looks like an arrow hit him. Or a bolt."

"Is this the kinda shit you used to do?" I question, eyeing him pointedly.

"When I had to."

"You really think I did it?"

"No," he shakes his head. "But others do. So I'm makin' sure."

"If I'd've killed him, I'd've killed him in plain sight," I say flatly. "I don't know who it is, but I know why. And so do you. Bringin' all these people together, it was always gonna happen."

"No," he protests. "It's the right thing to do. The future belongs to all of us now."

"Why do they get this future?" I demand. "And Glenn don't? Or Abraham? Or  _ Sasha? _ All the people the Kingdom lost…. Hilltop. Oceanside? You ever think about what they want? What  _ they'd _ do if they could?"

"Yeah, I do. I  _ have. _ For a long time, I wanted it, too, maybe more than anyone…" he trails off and I wish I could shake him, rattle some fucking sense into him.

He don't want this more than anyone, he never did. We all felt the loss, we _all_ wanted Negan to pay for that. I wanted it. Adie, Rosita, _Maggie._ That's what we were fighting for. An end. This shit about new beginnings might sound nice in theory, but that ain't reality. We're still fighting the same war. Only difference is Negan being on the sidelines.

"But killin' each other when the world already belongs to the dead?" He sighs. "It's not the way, not anymore."

"We should go work that grid," I mutter, getting to my feet.

"Daryl, I know you don't agree with everything we're doin' here," he says insistently, rising. "All I ask is that you  _ try. _ Do it. Let people see it. And maybe everyone moves past what's happened to what  _ could  _ happen and maybe, just  _ maybe, _ it'd be one of the best decisions you ever made. Like not killin' a guy who left your brother on a rooftop to die."

That ain't fair. But he leaves before I can argue, probably 'cause he knows it ain't fair. And I still don't think he's right.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Maggie," I murmur, she, Cyndie, and I tromping our way down an old, dirt road, scanning for missing Saviors.

Personally, I think if they walked off and got into trouble, never made it home, that's on them. But we're still doing what Rick wants. 

"What?"

"If, uh… if Daryl and me…" I trail off, not sure exactly how to phrase my question.

"If Daryl and you what?" She prompts.

"If we were gonna  _ try, _ " I blurt, two sets of eyes darting to my face. "Again... Would you consider makin' room at Hilltop for a couple more?"

"You guys are trying for a baby?" Cyndie blurts, stunned.

"We, uh," I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. "We've been thinkin' about it, yeah."

"There's been room for you both at Hilltop this whole time," Maggie points out.

"But what about Sanctuary?" Cyndie questions.

"Daryl doesn't wanna be there anymore," I mutter. "I don't wanna be there. I don't… I don't wanna start a family in that shit hole. We-"

"Call it out," Rick's voice crackles from the radio strapped to my belt.

"Grid one, clear so far," Jerry reports.

"Grid two's clear," Daryl announces over the rumble of his bike.

"Three is clear," Rick says.

"Four's clear," I murmur, holding the walkie to my mouth.

"Grid five clear," Arat finishes the sound off.

"Piper one, anything up top?" Rick questions.

"We're good," Dianne informs him. "Nothin' movin' our way."

"Stay sharp," Rick orders. "Eyes open. We still got missin' people out here."

"Hear that?" Maggie murmurs quietly, eyeing a couple walkers hightailing it into the trees as quickly as their rotted legs will allow, chasing after a sharp clanging sound ringing out above the trees.

"Yeah," I sigh, lifting the radio to my mouth once more. "Got somethin' makin' noise out here. We're gonna move in."

"We're headed your way," Rick confirms. "Grid five, do the same."

"There's a house up ahead," Cyndie announces. "Off the road. Could be coming from there. We used to live near here. Before Oceanside."

Before Oceanside... this is where Simon executed all their boys. This is where it happened. I glance at Cyndie. Her face is stony, giving nothing away, but being here… I imagine it feels like it would if I was standing back in the clearing where Glenn and Abe died. How can she tolerate it? I don't think I could.

Sure enough, there's a house up ahead, just like she said there would be. It's boarded up, the source of the noise being a loose sheet of metal stuck up on the roof, smacking against the drainpipe, drawing walkers to the yard.

"Okay," Maggie sighs. "We gotta take it out before it draws more. You good to follow my lead?"

"Yeah, already there," Cyndie nods.

"You got it," I murmur.

"You get the roof," Maggie instructs, grabbing a rusted pitchfork from the bed of the abandoned truck in front of the house. "We'll get them."

Cyndie nods, hanging back for a moment while Maggie and I unsheathe our knives and move forward a few yards.

"Over here!" Maggie calls out, luring the walkers towards us.

It's only a handful, maybe ten, and everything's fine until it's not. There's a splintering sound followed by a thud and I glance over, startled, just in time to see Cyndie go down, a piece of rotted floorboard having given way beneath her feet as she tried to make her way across the porch. She's not hurt, but there are more walkers stumbling out the front door, having pushed through the boards previously sealing them inside.

I plunge my knife into the last walker in the yard before tearing after Maggie, the two of us hurtling up the porch steps and taking out walkers as they continue to pour from the doorway. There's too many of 'em, they're blocking me and Maggie from getting to Cyndie, who's found herself weaponless and backed into a corner by the one walker that got loose.

"Hold on!" I snarl, thrusting my blade into a walker.

I leave my knife lodged firmly in its skull, gripping the handle tight and maneuvering the body to shield me from the others while I attempt to get closer to Cyndie. I'm not gonna get to her in time, I'm not gonna-

Before the walker can sink its teeth into Cyndie's neck, a bolt pierces right through its eyeball, announcing Daryl's arrival, along with Rick and Rosita, just as the last walker falls at Maggie's feet. I yank my blade from my corpse shield, heaving the body over the porch railing and reaching for Cyndie's good hand. She's popped her stitches open again. Enid's gonna shit. Cyndie's spent more time in the med tent the last few weeks than almost anyone else.

"You all right?" Daryl asks her.

"Yeah," she says breathlessly. "Just opened it back up."

Maggie retrieves the pitchfork and knocks the metal sheet from the roof, sending it thudding to the ground below.

"What happened to grid five?" Rosita questions. "Should've been here before us."

"Grid five, what's your status?" Rick demands into his walkie.

Just static.

*Daryl's POV*

"Bea," Cyndie breathes, checking for a pulse.

Beatrice and Arat were grid five. Arat ain't here and Beatrice is lying unconscious on the ground, her makeshift bow a couple yards away. I lift the weapon from the dirt, examining it for damage. It's perfectly fine, don't even look like she shot it before she went down.

_ Kinda looks like an arrow hit him. _

Oh, hell.

"Bea," Cyndie says, relieved when the woman starts to stir. "Wake up."

"You okay?" Rick questions as Beatrice slowly lifts her face from the dirt, groaning and rubbing the back of her head.

"Yeah," she murmurs. "Yeah, think so."

"What happened?" Adie questions softly, helping sit her up.

"Arat called in the all clear, and we headed towards the road, and then…" she trails off. "I dunno, I think somethin' hit me from behind."

"And Arat?" Rick prompts.

"I don't know," she shakes her head, taking Cyndie's hand and pulling herself up.

I hold out her weapon and she takes it, muttering her thanks. She's too calm. Her story don't add up.

"Whoever did this took her," Maggie announces, holding up Arat's walkie and knife.

"Son of a bitch," Adie mutters, raking a hand through her hair. "We need to  _ find _ her before Jed and DJ figure out she's missin'."

"Yeah," Rick sighs. "I know."

*Adrienne's POV*

"Do the Saviors know?" Cyndie questions.

We're in Rick's tent, having gone back to camp like nothing's wrong. Bea's story doesn't quite feel right to me. She didn't seem worried or all that upset at all and that bugs me. Daryl doesn't seem to think it adds up, either, but he's checking up on Aaron now. I don't think he cares if we find Arat or not, and I don't especially, either, but if this gets out, more people are gonna die and it won't just be Saviors.

"If they did, there'd be a war out there," I point out.

"I'm not gonna let that happen," Rick announces.

"You can't stop it," I counter. "It's  _ gonna _ happen, maybe even if we do find her."

"They think Arat's on watch through the night," Carol informs us. "Come morning, they'll know."

"She could be dead already," Maggie says flatly.

"If we don't figure out what happened," Carol sighs. "Sanctuary is gone."

"If that happens, we won't finish the work before the water rises," Rick mutters. "We'll lose the bridge."

"Yo," Jerry blurts, raising his hand. "Say we nab the perp. Then what? Who decides what happens next? Is it… is it gonna be a Gregory or… a Negan?"

That's a good fucking question. Rule of law really is dead. Dale was right.

"Well," Cyndie sighs, breaking the silence. "Whoever it is, when the time comes, they'll get what they deserve."

"Pair up with someone you trust," Rick instructs. "We're out there til we find her. Maggie, Adie, take Daryl."

"He doesn't need a babysitter," I snap, bristling.

"I  _ know, _ " Rick assures me. "I know, but if the Saviors catch wind of this, his back's the one with the biggest target."

*Daryl's POV*

Rick seems to think I need a babysitter. Two, actually. Me, Maggie, and Adie have been combing the woods for an hour now and ain't seen shit.

"You good with this?" I demand eventually, eyeing Maggie. "Or you just playin' nice for Rick?"

"I'm not sure."

"Yeah, me neither," I mutter.

"Part of me wishes I could see things his way," she murmurs. "Look forward and not back. Every time I look at Hershel, I think about how things could've been. And I can't let that go."

"You don't have to," I insist, gaze flickering to Adie's back several yards ahead of us. "I haven't."

"What Rick's doin' is right for the future," Maggie sighs. "It's better for Hershel."

"Yeah," I grunt.

I ain't convinced. But we ain't got time to discuss it further right now.

"Hear that?" Adie calls quietly, glancing over her shoulder at where the two of us have stopped dead in our tracks before moving further into the trees.

By the time me and Maggie get to her, she's already taken down one walker and is kneeling beside another. This one's been all the way dead for a while, a homemade bolt protruding from its chest, which Adie is regarding with narrowed eyes, like she's trying to figure out where the hell she's seen that before.

"I know who took Arat," I announce, pulling the bolt from the corpse and tossing it aside.

*Adrienne's POV*

Oceanside. They didn't just take Arat. They did Justin. All the other Savior walkouts. It was them. Vengeance for their boys. It's fair. But we don't get to have fair right now, which is why Maggie and me took Daryl back to that house Cyndie had led us to earlier. From there, we fanned out, searching for any structure big enough to house all of Oceanside before Simon slaughtered half of them.

"So, how do you know about this place?" Daryl questions, his flashlight beam arcing through the dark, lighting up the outside of what once was a rehab center.

"Cyndie," I murmur.

"I think it's where they lived before," Maggie announces. "It's what I'd do."

"Hey," Daryl blurts, his light landing on two large, very familiar canisters.

The ethanol. Sanctuary's other half of the deal. The corn fuel never made it to Hilltop. Now we know why.

"Beg," a woman's voice floats around the corner.

Cyndie. Daryl, Maggie, and I sprint to the back of the building to find a handful of Oceanside, Cyndie and Beatrice at the helm, holding a sobbing Arat at gunpoint.

" _ Beg, _ " Cyndie says. "Like you made them beg."

"Drop it!" Daryl barks, crossbow raised.

"Bea," Cyndie warns when Beatrice's weapon shifts from Arat to Daryl. "It's okay."

"You take out Justin with that thing?" Daryl demands, eyeing Bea's weapon, a hollow, spring loaded… thing.

She called it the Asskicker 3000 Turbo when she made it. She was laughing then. She's not now.

"He killed my husband," she says flatly. "I was  _ pregnant. _ "

Was.

Maggie stiffens and Daryl lowers his bow just slightly, then lets it fall to his side. If anyone else had found them first… it might be a different story.

"Daryl,  _ please, _ " Arat whimpers.

"They got a reason?" He demands.

"We've all done things," she protests.

"People will find out," Maggie points out.

"They will," I murmur, crossing my arms and eyeing Daryl.

"She's the last one," Cyndie informs us. "After this, it's over."

"Maybe for you," Maggie counters. "But it won't be. With somethin' like this, it keeps goin'."

"This was our  _ home, _ " Cyndie insists. "My mother and my grandmother found this place for the group. There were so many of us then…"

I think of the last place I felt truly at home. Yeah, there were bars on the windows and bless your heart if you wanted any kind of privacy, but Rick and Daryl found that place for us. We cleared it together and we built it up together and when my father came to knock it all down… if I think about it, I can still see it. What was left of him when I was done, how I  _ felt. _ So I don't think about it.

"Men and women," Cyndie continues. "Kids. My mom and I built a garden. Me and my brother used to play right here. But then the Saviors came. And  _ Simon _ wanted what we had," she's sobbing now, lip trembling. "He gave us our  _ final warning. _ Afterward, we ran. And we tried to forget. But then your people came and asked us to  _ fight. _ We did because we couldn't forget. After Rick ended it, we went along because we didn't think we had a choice," she eyes Maggie. "Until you hung Gregory. That's when we knew. Rick's rules aren't the only rules. You showed us the way. It was time."

"You did this…" Maggie starts, stricken. "Because of me?"

"They  _ murdered… _ " Cyndie sobs. "My  _ mother, _ " she jabs a finger at Arat. " _ She  _ shot my brother right here. And they took everything because they  _ could. _ "

"Please," Arat begs, tears streaming down her cheeks. "It's not like that anymore, okay?"

"But it was," I breathe, watching Cyndie fall apart.

"I'm, I'm one of you now," she pleads.

"Did you do it?" Maggie demands softly.

"Simon would've killed me, too!" She sobs.

"You asked me to beg for his life," Cyndie explodes. "He was crying, and you _smiled!_ I told you I loved him. I _needed_ him! He was only 11 years old. And what did you say?"

"I… I don't remember."

"Say it!" Cyndie snarls.

" _ Please! _ "

"What did you say?" Maggie demands.

It's quiet for a moment, Arat hanging her head like she knows she's done, and then...

"No exceptions."

My blood runs cold, the hair on my arms raising, the sharp thwack of a bat against bone, and Maggie _ screaming… _

"Do it," I whisper, taking Maggie's hand in mine and turning away, Daryl just behind.

"Oh, no," Arat sobs. "Daryl? Adrienne, Maggie! Daryl, you can't do this! I've changed!"

She's sobbing, begging, pleading… then the sharp sound of metal tearing through flesh and it's done.


	5. Brother, Take My Hand

**Chapter 5**

*Daryl's POV*

"Right after…" Maggie starts, eyes on Adie's back, the redhead once again several yards away from us. "We agreed we'd wait."

I remember. Adie had cried herself to sleep. It was that first night after Rick decided to spare Negan, the night she started to bleed and couldn't stop, couldn't figure out why, what she did wrong. She kept saying she was sorry but it wasn't her fault. Maggie didn't leave her side the whole time and that night while we watched Adie sleep, she and I decided we'd figure it out. We were gonna try 'cause that's what Rick wanted. ‘Cause it’s what  _ Carl _ wanted, and we were all grieving, but Rick… he needed us to try.

"Yeah," I sigh. "We did."

Adie pauses when she reaches the road, turning to glare impatiently with puffy, red-rimmed eyes.

"Cyndie said I showed 'em the way," Maggie continues when we catch up, stopping at the road. "She did the same thing for me. We gave Rick's way a chance. It's time to see Negan."

"I'm goin' with you," Adie says softly. "I need to see it."

"All right," I nod.

I feel better already. We're gonna end this. Us, together.

*Adrienne's POV*

I spent the night at Hilltop. Rick didn't question it. After all, we found the ethanol, and Maggie really needed to get it back to her people as soon as possible. Of course, she couldn't leave with such precious cargo without an escort. Enter me. Daryl's still at the camp, just in case. He'll delay Rick if he figures out what's going on, just long enough for me and Maggie to make sure. We're ending this. Maggie needs to kill him and I need to watch him die, and maybe that's a little fucked up, but I don't think so. We packed our shit and left first thing this morning. Jesus doesn't approve, but it's not his choice.

Part of me hates lying to Rick, but… it's been a year and a half and his way is not working. It never will. Negan's gotta go. Sanctuary's not our problem, they're not us. Me and Daryl aren't going back there. If Sanctuary fails, that's on them. We need to be with  _ our _ people. Rick's just gonna have to accept it.

*Daryl's POV*

Jerry's here. Means somebody at Hilltop knows what's up and don't agree. It don't matter. We got that little Oceanside girl in on this. If Rick tries to get a message to Alexandria, she's gonna intercept it. This is gonna work and Rick's gonna have to learn to live with it so we can  _ all  _ move on. Not just him and Michonne.

"Got somethin' for you,  _ jefé, _ " Jerry announces, slowing his horse to a canter just a few yards from where Rick is emerging from his tent.

"What is it?" Rick sighs.

"Maggie's running down to Alexandria," Jerry informs him. "Adie's with her. Jesus thought you should know pronto."

"When did they leave?"

"Dunno. Call just came in from the Hilltop relay."

"Did he say anything else?" Rick demands.

"Just that you know what that means. Sorry, man, that's all I got."

"No, no," Rick waves him off. "Thanks, Jerry."

Jerry takes off, presumably back to his patrol, and Rick snatches the radio from his belt.

"Alexandria Relay One, this is Rick Grimes. Come in please."

"Go for AR One."

"AR One, I need you to get an urgent message to Alexandria," Rick instructs, passing me by without a second glance. "If Maggie Rhee and Adie Dixon show up, delay them at the gate and alert Michonne right away. Do not, repeat, do  _ not  _ let 'em in without an escort. Over."

"Copy that, Rick. Will relay your message right now. Over."

"And Maggie, Adie, if you're listenin'..." Rick says, a pleading note to his tone. "Let's talk."

"Hey," I greet, striding over to where he's about to mount his horse. "What's goin' on?"

"Maggie's headed to Alexandria," he huffs. "With  _ your  _ wife. They're about to do somethin' they might regret."

"Hop on," I tell him, pointing to my bike. "I'll take you."

"You sure? You got enough fuel?"

"Yeah," I confirm, clapping him on the shoulder. "We'll get there quicker."

-

I gotta say, it's kinda awkward having another dude on this thing. He ain't got his arms around me, at least. Still, his thighs are touching my waist and it ain't nearly as enjoyable as when it's Adie.

"That was the way back there," Rick informs me like there's a chance in hell I didn't miss the turn on purpose.

He's quiet for a second, but that's all it takes him to put two and two together.

"Pull over," he commands. "Hey. Pull over!"

Fine. What's he gonna do, walk there? He'll get there too late. I bring the bike to a halt, hurling myself off of it and letting it drop to the ground.

"What is this?" He demands.

"You know exactly what this is," I hiss.

"I already called it in," he points out. "They're not makin' it through those gates."

"Yeah, that message didn't go through."

"You messed with the relay?!"

"This time, man, it's gon' go the way it was  _ supposed  _ to."

"Bullshit," he mutters, yanking the radio from his belt.

He still ain't hearing me and something snaps. I smack the damn walkie from his hands and lunge for him. The two of us collide and fall to the ground, rolling over the dirt and landing in a hole. Hard. Son of a bitch.

"Those roots…" Rick says, getting to his feet and pointing to a couple thicker roots dangling from the dirt about eight feet up. "They're the only way we're gettin' out."

"Too high up, though," I point out.

He jumps for it anyway, managing to snatch the very end of the lowest one, ripping it from the dirt as he falls right the fuck back down.

"God damn it!"

I did tell him.

"You set that up, too?" He demands.

"Man, you're really layin' this on me?" I snap. "You're the one that had to go chasin' after 'em. Couldn't just let things be, huh?"

"You know what keepin' Negan alive means to us."

"Nah," I grunt. "I know what seein' him dead means to  _ them. _ "

"Daryl, I get why they can't accept it, I do."

"Do you?"

"Y'all never comin' to Alexandria," he says sharply. "Maggie  _ hanging  _ Gregory the way she did? I know. I'm not blind."

"Well, you sure as hell been actin' like it," I point out. "Man, your ass wouldn't even be alive if it wasn't for  _ Glenn. _ You wouldn't've found Lori, you wouldn't've found Carl. And you sure as  _ fuck  _ wouldn't've found any of us. He did that. Or did you forget?"

"Of course not," he hisses emphatically. "I think about it every damn day. And Maggie, I hate what I did to her, what I  _ took  _ from her, from Adie, too, but it's what I had to do."

"They're doin' what they have to do."

"What, and you're okay with that?"

"Why the hell wouldn't I be?!" I demand.

"You spared Dwight. After Denise, after what he did to you."

"What do you mean?" I scoff. "Lockin' me in a damn closet? Paradin' me around so I couldn't say nothin'? Man, you got that guy sittin' in a cell like a damn  _ symbol  _ to all them assholes who can't wait to see things go back to the way that they were!"

"Keepin' him alive is how we make sure it  _ won't! _ " He explodes.

"No," I counter. "Keepin' him alive is givin' 'em hope that it will."

"Michonne talked to Maggie. She came to the camp. She was comin' around."

"Yeah, well, she was tryin'. The truth is, she just couldn't live with it. Just like Oceanside."

"Oceanside?" He demands. "You sayin' Oceanside killed those Saviors? Arat?"

"I'm sayin' they got what they deserved."

"You  _ knew, _ and you didn't say anything?"

"Truth is, I couldn't live with it, either."

"If this doesn't work, if they kill Negan, he becomes a  _ martyr, _ " he says tearfully. "The war was for nothing. Every person who died, died for nothing, C-" He chokes back a sob. " _ Carl… _ Carl died for  _ nothing. _ "

"What about the rest of us?" I demand quietly. "You don't think after all the shit we been through, we couldn't handle it? Man, you keep askin' us to have faith in all these other people. Truth is, you don't have enough faith in us."

"You know that's… that's not true," he protests.

"I'd die for you," I tell him firmly. "And I would've died for Carl. You know that. But you gotta hear me. You're chasin' somethin' for him that ain't meant to be, man. You just gotta let him go. Let him go."

"I never… I never asked anyone to follow me."

"I know," I assure him. "I know. But maybe you should've."

With that, we're done talking. I think I got through to him, just a little bit. But we got bigger shit to worry about. We spend the next half hour in silence, attempting to carve some footholds into the dirt, get our ass outta this hole. It's quiet until we hear the gunshots.

"That's back at the camp," I tell him.

"It's gonna draw those herds."

"C'mon," I prompt, lacing my fingers together and crouching down.

"All right," he murmurs, placing his foot in my hands. "One, two, three."

I give him a boost and he grabs for the next lowest root, but he don't quite make it.

"Shit," he hisses, landing in the dirt.

"You all right?" I question, pulling him back up.

"Yeah."

"Here we go," I mutter. "We got this. Ready? One, two, three."

This time when I boost him up, he grabs hold and stays up. We're gonna make it. At least, that's what I think until a couple walkers stumble their way into the hole. They slide right down past Rick, though, and it's just a couple. I take 'em out and Rick's still holding on.

"You okay?" I question.

"Yeah. Yeah. There's more comin'!"

But it's just one more. I take it out while Rick tests the hold of the root beside his.

"Think you can get to this one?" He asks.

"Yeah."

I stack the bodies up against the dirt wall and it's just high enough, I can reach the roots, and even though more walkers are tripping and falling into the hole, we're both hanging on. Rick's almost at the top and I'm following his path, trying to ignore the dozen or so growling corpses below. If we fall, that's gonna be it. I'll die in a fucking hole after all the shit we've been through, all the shit I never should've lived through. No. We ain't dying today.

"Daryl," Rick says frantically, leaning over from the top of the hole. "You gotta hurry."

"I'm hurryin'!"

But it ain't fast enough for Rick. He wraps one arm in some of the stronger roots hanging off a tree just beyond the edge of the hole, reaching for me with the other.

"Take my hand."

_ Grab your friend Rick's hand! _

Christ, I hear Merle laughing like it was yesterday. Only he wasn't really there, though. And he ain't here now. Rick is. I meant it when I said it. Together, we can do anything.

"You're almost there! Come on!"

I'm grabbing at him, our fingers just slipping through each other, and it don't matter how hard I try, I can't seem to hold onto him.

"You're almost there," he encourages when my hand slips from his again. "Brother… Brother, take my hand."

He ain't leaving me. He ain't never gonna leave me, never. With one last monumental push, he's got me, he's got me and we're both on solid ground and we're alive.

"Heads up!" He hollers, already swinging his hatchet at the walkers at the head of the herd. "Come on!"

We can beat 'em. My bike is still on the road and between the two of us, it only takes a minute to get to it.

"Let's go!" I holler.

"Wait," Rick stops, eyeing a horse without its rider just down the road. "I'm gonna stay back, lead 'em away from the camp."

"What?" I demand.

"I'm stayin'."

"No, man!"

"I'm not givin' up on it, not yet," he insists.

"The river," I suggest, knowing he's gonna do what he has to anyway. "Take 'em to the bridge. It ain't ever gonna hold, and they'll get washed out to sea."

"No, man, I'm not sacrificing the bridge," he argues, waving me off. "I'll find another way."

"There ain't no other way, man!"

"I'm  _ not _ destroying the bridge. We need it."

"Fine," I mutter, but I can't let him go just yet. "Hey! Be safe."

"You, too," he says, already mounting the horse.

I climb onto my bike and we go our separate ways.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Woah," Maggie halts her horse, moving to dismount and take care of the walker in the middle of the road.

"I got it," I offer.

"I'll get it," she insists, already down on the ground. "Gimme a minute."

She pulls the crowbar from her pack, swinging it at the walker. It's done in under a second, but she keeps going, bringing the crowbar down over and over and over again, swinging it like a… bat.

"Maggie," I blurt. "Maggie! It's dead."

She turns on her heel, listlessly wiping the old, congealed blood from her arm.

"We can go now," she announces, shoving her foot through the stirrup and slinging herself back into the saddle.

She's quiet the rest of the way to Alexandria and I know she's thinking about Glenn. About how he should be here because he saved people, all of us, really, when you think about it, and he's  _ not. _ He's not. Abraham. My baby. I feel it, too. The burning, all consuming  _ rage  _ just boiling in my guts, like my blood is on fire, and I need to see it. I need to see him die because that's what's right and that's what's  _ fair. _ I wasn't ready for what Alexandria looks like now. Last time I saw it, everything was burning. Carl was dying and I think a little piece of all of us went with him and it never really came back.

_ You're not sad anymore, Adie. _

I read his letter every day and it didn't matter when the ink faded into nothing, and it doesn't matter that it's gone now, I memorized it. He thought I was gonna be a good mom. He thought we should keep Negan alive so we could have peace. He was wrong. He was wrong and he's gone and we never healed because Negan is still here.

"You ready?" Maggie murmurs, more to herself than me, I think.

"Yeah," I nod. "I am. Are you?"

She's silent, but she squares her shoulders and marches down the street towards the familiar brownstone we know houses Negan. Morgan built the first cell down there, it's the most logical place for him to be. My suspicions are confirmed when we arrive at the stairwell and Michonne's already here.

"Maggie?" She says, a warning in her tone.

"Get outta my way," Maggie says flatly.

"You're willing to turn this into something else?" Michonne demands, eyes flickering between my face and Maggie's. "For him?"

"Not for him," Maggie shakes her head. "For  _ me. _ For Adie. For others. For  _ Glenn. _ Negan should've died under that tree."

"But he didn't die, Maggie," Michonne hisses. "It's done."

"Because Rick decided it was?" Maggie demands.

"He made a choice."

"That wasn't his call," I snap. "It wasn't his  _ choice _ to  _ make. _ Let her through."

"Step…" Michonne says firmly, nearly nose to nose with Maggie. "Back."

"You were  _ there, _ Michonne," Maggie spits. "You saw what Negan did."

"You think Glenn would want this?" Michonne fires back, tears in her eyes. "For you two to go through  _ me  _ to get to him?"

"I think he isn't here to ask!" I hiss.

"I dunno what he'd want," Maggie shakes her head. "I dunno, because I never got to say goodbye."

"He wouldn't want it, Maggie," Michonne says emphatically. "Your  _ father _ wouldn't want this. You know this."

"That's the only thing I had, the  _ one  _ thing I had," Maggie starts, choking back a sob. "Was knowin' I was gonna see Glenn's murderer  _ die. _ And you took it from me."

"So takin' it back, what the hell is that gonna do?" Michonne demands.

"It's gonna start things over," Maggie insists.

"No," Michonne snaps. "It's gonna start something else."

"If he'd  _ butchered _ Rick," Maggie spits. "In front of you instead of Glenn-"

"Maggie-"

"If you had a child to raise  _ alone _ because of him!" Maggie snarls. "He would've been dead a  _ long _ time ago, and you know it. So stop actin' like this is a choice. Stop actin' like I can just turn it off. Because it has been a  _ year _ and a  _ half  _ and  _ I can't! _ "

"You're gonna have to find a way," Michonne says softly, wiping away the one tear she couldn't hold back.

"Tell me how," Maggie says. "If there is somethin' else that I can do, Michonne. 'cause I can't keep livin' like this."

"I…" Michonne breathes, the dam finally, finally breaking, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I can't. I can't."

"'Cause there's nothin' you can say," Maggie whispers. "There's only what you do."

"And you can live with what comes after?" Michonne questions. "Both of you? You can live with that?"

Maggie's eyes flicker to mine. We can. We can live with this now just as easily as we could a year and a half ago and Maggie… Maggie lost the most that night. If Negan had killed Daryl, if I had to live  _ without  _ him… nothing could've held me back that day on the hill. Not Michonne, not Rick. Nothing.

"Have to," Maggie says softly, turning her gaze back to Michonne. "Can't live with it now."

She holds her hand out expectantly, Michonne hesitating only a moment before placing the keys in her palm and stepping aside.

"Thank you," I murmur, trailing after Maggie into the cell.

I don't know what I thought I'd feel when I laid eyes on him, but the anger that rises up in me when I see him behind those bars, just sitting there with that fucking  _ smirk _ on his face, is almost nauseating.

"Aw…" he chuckles. "She just gave up the keys, huh? It's a shame. She got the blade, but you… you guys got the  _ fire. _ My money was on you."

I take a step back. This belongs to Maggie. I have to let her do it. I have to. It can't be about me. No matter how bad I want to be the one to do it.

"So you remember me," Maggie says flatly.

"'Course I do," Negan murmurs. "And I obviously remember  _ Little _ Red. It's why I thought you were gonna win."

I bite my tongue, clenching my fists so tight my nails cut into my palms. I close my eyes, willing my bones to quit shaking, and breathe. It's not about me.

"Good," Maggie murmurs. "Get on your knees.

He gets to his feet, releasing a long suffering sigh, and shuffles into the middle of his cell.

"You know," he says. "I remember you screamin' in that clearing. I remember how much I broke you breakin' open your husband's head like I did-"

"Glenn," Maggie cuts him off. "His name was  _ Glenn. _ "

"So now what?" He questions conversationally. "You finally come for… revenge?"

"Justice."

"Damn… I thought you'd do this a hell of a lot sooner. It take you this long to work up your nerve?"

He's  _ goading _ her. I grit my teeth. Not about me, not about me,  _ not _ about me...

"I was always gonna settle this," she spits. "What  _ you _ did to my husband. Get on your knees."

"What I did to him?" Negan gloats. "You mean how I cracked open his skull and popped out his fuckin' eyeball? How I bashed his big, beautiful brains into the ground over and over while you and his little friends watched? Is that what you mean?"

"She said get on your knees!" I snarl, shoving off from the wall and hurling myself against the bars. "Now."

"Ah…" he chuckles, not sparing me a glance, eyes still glued to Maggie's. "I used to say that I didn't enjoy killin'. That was a  _ lie. _ Your old man… Christ, I forgot his fuckin' name again. But he was different. Killin' him the way I did, oh… now that was fun."

Maggie finally puts the key in the lock and Negan sinks to his knees.

"Get to it," he says. "Have your justice. Kill me. It was  _ worth  _ it."

"Lemme see you in the light," Maggie demands softly.

"Come on…" Negan simpers, not moving an inch. "Kill me. You not have it in you? Fine, give your little pig sticker to Little Red. She won't bitch out like Rick."

"Come into the light," Maggie insists.

"Kill me. This is what you  _ came _ here for! You kill me!"

"Move. Into. The light."

"Kill me."

Maggie yanks the cell door open, grabbing Negan by the scruff of the neck and hurling him into the wall just outside the cell. He's sobbing. I feel no sympathy. Nothing. I feel nothing but the rage.

"Please," he cries. " _ Please _ kill me."

"Why?" Maggie demands.

"You have to, just do it."

"You tell me why!" She snarls. "Tell me! Why should I?!"

"So I can be with my wife!" He sobs. "So I can be with  _ Lucille! _ I should be dead. I have to be dead. And it's supposed to be you. It has to be you. Because I can't do it. I can't do it, I've tried. I can't. I can't be like this. Please,  _ please _ don't make me stay like this. It's… settle it! Settle  _ me. _ Kill me.  _ Please. _ "

"Get back in your cell," Maggie commands.

"What?" I hiss. "No! Maggie, no! He doesn't, he can't-"

"I came to kill Negan," she says, eyes flickering to mine. "And he's already worse than dead."

"No!" I snarl, something snapping inside me, like a rubber band pulled to its limit. "No, no he's not! He's not, he's  _ not, _ he's still  _ breathin'! _ "

I lunge for the man on the ground, grabbing him by the collar.

"Adie, stop!"

I can't.

"Get up!" I roar. "You get _up_ and you _fight_ _back!_ "

I hurl my fist at his face, splitting the skin over the bridge of his nose, and hit him again.

"Fight  _ back! _ " I shriek, hot tears spilling down my cheeks, Maggie's hands clawing at my back. "Why?! Why won't you  _ fight?! _ Let me go! Let me  _ go! _ He's supposed to be  _ dead! _ "

He won't fight. He won't hit me back, he's just sagging, limp and defeated, against the wall.

"Adie!" Maggie snarls in my ear, but I break out of her grasp.

"He's supposed to be  _ dead! _ " I repeat, grabbing his shirt and pulling him up the wall, slamming his shoulders against the brick. "He's  _ supposed  _ to! Like Glenn! Abraham! My  _ baby! _ " I wail, letting him drop to the floor.

He won't fight. He won't fight and I can't do it. Maggie locks him in his cell, turning and offering her hand to me. I can't move, not yet, I can't, but she takes my hand in hers anyway.

"He killed my… he killed my baby, he… it's him, it's his fault, I..." I trail off, sobbing, and collapse against her, letting her lead me out the door. "He k-, he killed m-my baby…"

"Adie…" Michonne murmurs, she and Maggie holding me upright while I attempt to collect myself.

All this time, I was holding onto it. I didn't know… I didn't know I wanted our baby and then it was gone and it's like I could see it, I could  _ see  _ it, this little boy with crimson curls like mine and Daryl's eyes and I wanted him, I wanted him so bad, and I  _ can't, _ I can't blame Negan anymore, and now what am I supposed to do? It's gone.

"Maggie!" Dianne says breathlessly, appearing at the top of the stairs. "Adie, Michonne, somethin's up at the camp."

*Daryl's POV*

By the time I made it back to camp, everyone was fighting everyone else. Then the walkers came, having run right through Hilltop, and some ran, but some stayed, even some of the Saviors stayed. Hilltop's here, Kingdom's here, and then Adie showed up with Maggie, Michonne, and Dianne in tow, and the three of 'em started shouting orders, rounding everybody up and funneling the dead bastards right to the bridge. Rick changed his mind, 'cause he's here, too, up on that bridge. He's hurt, bad, but he's alive. We're gonna beat this thing, all of us. Together, like how it's supposed to be.

"What is he  _ doing?! _ " Maggie demands when Rick don't move.

"He's hurt!" Michonne hollers.

"That herd that went right through Hilltop," I mutter. "He's trying to bring down the bridge."

“What?” Adie hisses. “This wasn’t the plan, with him  _ on _ it!”

"No," Michonne breathes.

"We turn 'em around!" Maggie commands. "Fight 'em back!"

"Fire your guns!" Carol orders. "Try to divert them!"

They all take off, but I can't move 'cause Rick still ain't moving. He's going in the wrong direction, towards the walkers. I fire bolt after bolt into 'em, trying to give him enough room to get away, 'cause maybe that's the problem, he ain't moving away from 'em 'cause he can't, maybe he just needs a little more room. But he looks right at me and nods. He knows what he's doing.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Rick!" Michonne roars.

We've reached the other end of the bridge, we can get to Rick, we can get to him, he's right there, and he's still fighting, he's got his gun out, he's got it out, but his aim is off. He's not aiming at the walkers, he's aiming for-

The bridge explodes, the blast rocking through the ground and up into my bones, a wave of heat rolling off the flames, black smoke mushrooming into the air. No. No. No, it can't, it's not…

"Rick!" Michonne shrieks, lunging for the burning bridge, bringing me back.

It takes me, Carol, and Maggie to hold her back, the four of us sinking to the dirt, just trying to keep each other's pieces together, 'cause if we hold tight enough, maybe we can.

*Daryl's POV*

Everything's gone.


	6. This Is A Pleasant Surprise

**Chapter 6**

*Adrienne's POV*

*6 years later*

I didn't think I'd ever feel this good again, this full. Like I found the piece I've been missing all this time and even though my edges are worn, it still fits just exactly like it's supposed to, like it always did. His weight on top of me, those steel blue eyes I can't look away from, the  _ impossibly _ broad shoulders, right here where he's supposed to be. I can feel his hair cascading through my fingers, his hips rolling with mine, his breath, hot against my ear, and he's making those promises again, voice like gravel and whiskey and crushed velvet cigarettes.

"I'm gon' love you forever, Mrs. Dixon."

"Adie."

_ Forever. _

"Adie!"

_ Forever, Mrs. Dixon. _

"Adrienne!"

My eyes fly open, heart thundering in my chest, and for a second, just a second, dreams meld with reality and I see his face, those eyes, every plane exactly as I remember it, hovering above me. Then I remember where I am and it's gone.

"You okay?" Jesus murmurs, brow furrowing in concern.

It was a dream. It was just a dream. I swallow, a painful knot throbbing in the hollow of my throat, and nod, my heart slowing to a less frantic rhythm. He's not here.

"Nightmare," I choke. "I had, I was havin' a nightmare. What time is it?"

"Either really late or really early," he chuckles. "Depending on perspective."

" _ Paul, _ " I hiss.

"Don't call me that," he whispers, mock affronted. "It sounds dirty coming from you."

"What time is it?"

"Almost four o'clock in the morning."

"Shit," I sigh, unfolding myself from the armchair I'd inadvertently spent the night in. "I was drawin' up new field plans, try and figure out where the hell we can fit Enid's herbs so she can quit chewin' me out every damn day."

"Did you?"

"No."

"Yeah, you did."

"Yeah," I yawn. "I did. But I'm goin' back to bed til the sun's up, then I'll tell you all about it. See you in a couple hours."

*Daryl's POV*

"Need a ride, stranger?"

I don't know how the hell she keeps finding me, but she always does. It's been a while, though. Her hair's a little longer and she's got Henry with her this time. It's good to see her. I'm still afraid one day a while's gonna turn into a decade, then two, then forever. But Carol ain't dead, not today. 

"Be careful," she murmurs, holding Henry back as he attempts to follow me into my camp. "Traps everywhere."

She's right. Gotta eat. Traps keep the dead away. Can't eat if I get eaten. I dump the small logs I'd been gathering next to the fire pit, busying myself putting all my shit away while Carol does her routine assessment.

"You didn't fix the boat since last time?" She demands, eyeing Dog affectionately as he drops a severed walker hand at my feet.

"Good dog," I mutter, scratching him behind the ears.

"When was the last time you ate?" Carol questions.

"Dog ate yesterday."

"I'm not talkin' about the dog."

*Adrienne's POV*

"Another one?" I question, plopping down beside Jesus on the sofa that serves as his office.

"Yup," he sighs, handing over Maggie's letter.

I skim through it, bobbing my head to the beat of whatever old tune he's got playing on the record player. A gift from Georgie. Along with an extensive collection of records, not a single spoken word in the bunch. It's a decent song and I'm about to open my mouth and ask Jesus who this is when the record scratches, Jesus removing the needle. Tara's here, with another list, no doubt. He didn't have to stop the music. There's a perfectly functional volume slider, thank you.

"Hey," he greets as Tara settles on the sofa beside me.

"You're spending a lot of time with Georgie's records," she says, only a little accusatory.

I don't blame her. Jesus is in charge of this place, but she and I essentially run Hilltop these days with very little input from him. It gets frustrating.

"It's a good collection," he says defensively, taking the letter from my hands and tucking it back into its envelope. "I appreciate the gift."

"Maggie send another letter?" Tara questions, eyeing the envelope.

"Yeah," he sighs. "Twins dropped it off this morning. She's good. Happy."

Uh-huh. And still not coming back. It took a long time for that to sink in for me. After the bridge… things aren't like they were, once upon a time. After Rick died, our communities just kinda drifted further and further apart. We hardly see each other anymore, I only see Carol a couple times a year when I make the trip to the Kingdom to help train their new fighters, show the kids how to be safe in the world they're inheriting. Then one day Maggie took Hershel and disappeared and I thought that was the last blow I could take, I really did, but after that... I don't know, I guess I just found my place here. Ezekiel's hosting a trade fair in the hopes that it'll bring us all back together again, but according to Aaron, Michonne refuses. Hilltop will be there, though. We need this.

"What's up?" Jesus prompts, knowing damn well Tara's got a whole list of line items like every morning.

"Got a list of people that wanna talk to you."

"I'm sure you do."

"Fine," she simpers, dropping her clipboard on the coffee table in front of us and getting to her feet. "I'll just leave this here and you can deal with it."

"Very funny," he says sarcastically. "Sit. I'm listening."

"I have 20 minutes before I have to be back to the infirmary," she huffs, resituating herself beside me and rifling through her papers.

"Hit me," he says, and I wind back, cocking a fist and hurling it slow motion at his arm.

"Okay," she sighs. "Okay, Tammy Rose wants to expand the crop fields, but she needs to see how far she can cultivate. Um, Enid needs more room in the garden for-"

"Medicinal herbs," I finish with her, Jesus and I exchanging a knowing look. "You can cross that one off, Tara, I drew it up last night, got Oscar workin' on it."

"Great," she says, running a line through Enid's request. "Um, Alden also needs your okay to send another team out for scrap metal… there's a noise complaint from trailer 7. And…"

"Why did you give that kid a kazoo?" Jesus sighs disparagingly.

"You find a kazoo, you give it to a kid," she explains.

"Sound logic," I blurt. "See what I did there?"

Jesus just glares, evidently not appreciating my top notch pun game today.

"I'll deal with it," Tara promises, unfolding a piece of paper from the litany of papers barely hanging on to her clipboard. "And there's this," she passes the form to Jesus. "Congrats on being re-elected leader of Hilltop."

"Yeah, well, a win is a given when no one runs against you," he scoffs. "Not mentioning any names, Adie."

"I'm not runnin' for president," I sigh, crossing my arms.

"Why not?" Jesus demands.

"Are you kiddin' me?" I scoff. "This place would  _ crumble. _ "

"This place is still standing because of you," he counters.

I scowl at him. We've had this debate the last three elections. I'm not doing it.

"You could at least  _ pretend _ to be happy," Tara sighs.

"Thank you, Tara," Jesus simpers, smirking.

"This place is a mess," she huffs, eyeing the stacks of papers and books and records adorning every available surface in Jesus's makeshift office. "Just take Maggie's office, she'd want you to have it."

"It's fine," Jesus says flatly. "I don't need it."

"Still thinkin' this is a temporary gig?" I question. "She's not comin' back."

"I'm gonna go check on those crop fields for Tammy," he blurts, leaping to his feet and scurrying down the stairs.

"What,  _ now? _ " Tara demands. "I, I have a list of things that I have to go over."

"And you can ask me them when I get back," he calls over his shoulder.

"Seriously?" She huffs.

"Sorry," I shrug. "Looks like I'm all you got."

"Maybe you  _ should _ run."

"Tara, we've been through this," I groan. "I don't wanna be in charge any more than he does."

"Well, someone has to be."

"Then why aren't you runnin'?"

"Because _I_ don't want to."

I side-eye her.

"Fine," she sighs. "Okay, let's just... get through the list, then."

*Daryl's POV*

It ain't that I don't want her here, but I really wish Carol would just get to the damn point already. This ain't just a check up on me kinda thing and I know it, 'cause she brought Henry with her, and she knows I know it.

"You just gonna leave him there?" She demands, eyeing the walker I'd just taken out.

"Yeah," I grunt, checking one of the snares. "Keeps the animals away."

There's a rabbit this time. It ain't big, but it's bigger than the last one. It's got more than enough meat on its bones.

"You've been out here longer than I thought you'd be," she points out. "Longer than you  _ said  _ you'd be."

"Yeah, I like it," I mutter. "It's quiet. How's the King?"

"He's havin' a hard time letting go," she tells me. "I'm takin' Henry to the Hilltop."

She says Hilltop all pointedly. I ain't gonna give her the satisfaction of reacting. I already told her a thousand times, I ain't gonna talk about  _ her. _

"He wants to apprentice at the smithy."

"Well, I appreciate your visit," I murmur, resetting the snare. "You seem real good," I turn to face her. "You gonna tell me why you're really here?"

"I want you to come with us."

I balk. She knows I won't. I can't. I've been gone too long, I've been out here too long. I can't go back, I can't face… I just can't. I'm not. I used to go a few times a year, trade whatever I'd scavenged for supplies from Jesus, and he promised he wouldn't tell her.

"I can't stay at Hilltop," she continues. "We've got problems of our own at the Kingdom, and I'd just feel really… a lot better if you were there with him."

"You want me to babysit your boy?" I question derisively.

She blinks, the picture of innocence. It ain't the first time she's tried to get me back there. I ain't stupid. Maybe she really would feel better if I was there, but that ain't the only reason.

"It's not like that," she insists.

"How is it?"

"Henry's an idealist, just like Ezekiel," she explains. "I love that about him, I do. It's important. But it can be dangerous, too."

"No," I say flatly. "He's gon' have to learn, just like everybody else. Just like you and I did."

She drops the subject, but she ain't leaving. Her and Henry hang around, apparently staying for dinner. Ain't gonna be nothin' like they're used to at the Kingdom, probably, but I still tried to make it nice, stewed up that rabbit with some carrots and potatoes.

"Your dog always do that?" Henry questions, eyeing the foot Dog just dropped at the edge of the fire pit.

"Well, he's got his reasons," I grunt, retrieving the foot and tossing it into the fire before taking a seat and skinning the tiny snake I'd caught earlier.

"I'm impressed," Carol says after a moment. "This is really nice, you cooking for us. You, you're good at this."

"I'm sure there's people at Hilltop who know how to cook," I mutter.

"Not Aunt Adie," Henry laughs.

I freeze. Carol knows not to talk about her. Guess she didn't prep the kid before they came out here.

"Last time we visited, she lit a grilled cheese on fire," he continues, oblivious to my discomfort. "She…" he trails off, realization dawning on him. "Wait, is this why we came here?" He demands, eyeing his mother. "'Cause you think I need a chaperone? And this is the guy?"

"Henry," Carol hisses sharply.

"I can handle myself," he insists.

"I never said you couldn't."

"About 30 minutes and the food'll be ready," I announce.

"Well, good," Carol says brightly. "That's just enough time."

"Time for what?" I demand.

I wish I hadn't asked. Twenty minutes later and she's just now finishing with my hair, cutting and trimming and combing her fingers through it.

"Look," I blurt eventually. "I know you think I'm still lookin' for him."

"Are you?"

"I never found the body," I murmur. "Ever. After a while, it just got easier to stay out here."

"You have to let that go," she says softly, smoothing the hair from my eyes, seemingly unfazed at the angry, red line running vertically down my forehead, splitting my left eyebrow in two. "There," she says, satisfied. "That's better."

I wanna ask her. Every second since the kid said her name, I wanna ask how she is. If she's still bouncing back and forth between Kingdom and Hilltop, teaching self defense to anyone who wants to learn. If she's okay, if she's… if she's better without me. Last I heard, she was the unofficial leader of Hilltop 'cause Jesus don't wanna actually do it and she don't want the title. I ain't seen her in six years, not since a few days after the bridge went down. When I meet with Jesus to trade, it's always at night, always outside the gates, and never when she's around. After Rick, I couldn't… I couldn't watch anyone else I love die, I fucking couldn't do it. It still feels inevitable, like Beth was right all them years ago.

_ You're gonna be the last man standin'. _

And now it's been six years and she's still alive, lighting sandwiches on fire and bossing people around, and I'm not with her 'cause the longer I stayed away the easier it was to just accept she don't love me no more 'cause I left her. That she's better off 'cause I stayed gone. I don't go there at all no more.

"Come on," I grunt, getting to my feet. "Dinner's ready."

-

"How'd you get the scar, anyway?" Henry questions around a mouthful of stew.

For all his fancy fuckin' etiquette bullshit, Ezekiel sure as hell didn't teach this kid any manners. I don't wanna talk about it. I lift the tin filled with the organs I pulled from the rabbit.

"Where's that dog?" I grunt. "His food's gettin' cold. Dog!"

I toss my dish aside and get to my feet.

"Dog!"

The kid seems to get the hint and leaves me alone the rest of the night. He ducks into a tent with Carol, but I can't sleep. I'm still thinking about her. If I go to sleep thinking about her I'll dream about her and that'll just mess me up tomorrow 'cause I'll wake up thinking about her still. I just need to walk it out, which is what I'm doing when the kid shows up to bug me again. He's got a flashlight, staring at a walker got itself stuck in one of my traps, just looking at it. Maybe it really is just that he needs a damn babysitter.

"You followin' me?" I demand, startling the hell out of him.

"What're you doing out here?"

"Turn it off," I command, dipping my head at his flashlight. "Go back to camp."

He only listens to the part about the light, but Dog's barking and I ain't got time to argue with the kid. A half dozen walkers are all tangled up in the ropes and traps and Dog's stuck in the middle of 'em, jaws snapping, all desperately trying to get a piece of him.

"Damn it!" I snarl, lifting my crossbow and firing into the closest ones.

"What's wrong?" Henry asks, like it ain't obvious.

"Stay here," I order, shoving my bow into his arms and sprinting towards Dog. 

He keeps carrying on like that, he's gonna draw 'em all out and then we got a real problem.

"Shh…" I soothe, scratching behind his ears. "Come on. I got you. I got you, pup. I got you."

Before I can get the rope loose, a couple of the walkers get their hands around my ankles, dragging me backward, and Dog starts right back up with the barking.

"Daryl!" Henry cries, rushing towards me.

"Stay back!" I snarl, snatching my knives, flinging one into one of the dead sumbitches before taking down two more with the other and scrambling forward on my hands and knees.

I almost got his rope undone when one of the walkers behind me breaks free from its trap. Henry springs forward, catching it on his stick before it can bite me. I hurl my knife into its skull and Henry yanks his stick from its chest, letting it fall. He don't move yet, though, 'cause he got his foot stuck in one of the traps.

"Be careful," I mutter, reaching into the hole and helping maneuver his foot without breaking his ankle on the stakes. "Careful. You got it?"

"It's just a scrape," he says breathlessly, touching the scratch on his cheek gingerly.

"I told you to stay back," I grumble.

"Yeah, you're welcome," he snarks.

I sigh, snatching my bow from the ground and heading back to camp with the kid two steps behind me.

*Adrienne's POV*

"How is she?" Jesus questions, Tara meeting us on the stairs. "Any change?"

Rosita's here. I haven't seen her in… Christ, it's gotta be three years now. Aaron's here, too. Rosita was attacked, out doing something with Eugene, who's still missing, she was unconscious when Jesus and Aaron came rolling through our gates. The jig is up. Tara's gonna lose her shit, but now we have to tell her. Jesus isn't just running off on his own. He's been meeting with Aaron and I've kept it secret all this time and in Tara's eyes, that's gonna make me guilty by association.

"No, she's still out," Tara says softly, the three of us taking a seat on the stairs. "But she's gonna be okay. She's just dehydrated. Enid has her on an IV. It was weird… seeing her after all this time. Aaron, too."

Shit, here we go.

"What were you guys doing out there?"

"I've been training him," Jesus says simply. "Talking to him. Keeping the lines of communication open. Making sure they're still alive."

"And you knew?" Tara demands, eyes flickering to mine, narrowing when I just nod.

"Yes, I knew." I sigh, rolling my eyes. "I am  _ very  _ sorry I didn't tell you, how can I ever make it up to you, will you ever forgive me-"

"To avoid being here?" She interrupts, eyes back on Jesus.

"To  _ try  _ and get Alexandria on board with the fair."

"They won't," Tara shakes her head.

"I can't accept that," Jesus says. "You shouldn't, either, it's important."

"We need this," I nod. "We need to bring everybody back together again. It's time."

"Listen, everybody here is starting to notice how much you're gone, Jesus," Tara points out. "The fair is important to all of us, but we need you here."

"Why?" He demands.

"Because they  _ made  _ you our leader," Tara insists.

"Well, maybe they shouldn't have." Jesus snaps, getting to his feet. "Adie-"

"I am  _ not _ havin' this argument again," I hiss, rising. " _ You  _ promised Maggie,  _ you  _ need to keep that promise. I'm not runnin' this place. I'm goin' to bed and in the mornin' I'm goin' out to look for Eugene. You two can fight over duty and obligations and where to plant the goddamn  _ herbs _ without my help for one day."

"Adie-"

"Good night," I snap, silencing them both and stomping back upstairs to my room.

*Daryl's POV*

"Here."

I toss Henry the tiny jar of homemade ointment I keep around. Enid made it.

"Use that. It's good for the infection," I instruct, settling on the log beside him, reaching down to pat Dog on the head and give him a few scratches. "Oh, hi, Dog. Dog," he pants happily. "The dog checks the traps," I announce. "Lets me know if I have a walker problem. Never got stuck before, though. Anyway… thank you for your help."

"Oh, it's no problem," Henry mutters. "Thanks for uh, saving me," he glances around warily. "Can you not tell my mom about that, though?"

I nod, plucking a stick from the ground, trying not to think about how that sounds like some shit a certain redhead would say.

_ Think she'll kick my ass if I start callin' her the queen? _

"Hey," I grunt, flinging the stick into the night. "Dog, hey. Go, Dog!"

He's off and running. Always liked German Shepherds. Smart as hell, and fast. Good noses.

"You know, the traps…" I start, eyeing Henry. "They're not for animals. That's… that's no way to die, slow and painful like that. I just wanna keep the walkers out. But there seems to be more 'n more of 'em lately."

"You know," he clears his throat. "You know, my mom… she says you're her best friend. The one who's always had her back, no matter what. She misses you. She worries about you. Other people… other people worry about you," he don't need to say her name, I know who he means, and I wonder if Carol put him up to it. "You can, you can see that, right?"

Her best friend. I've been doing a shitty job of that out here, though. Ain't had anyone's back but my own for years. Gets lonely, but it's better than watching people die every other day. It is. It's better.

"Well…" I grunt. "She knows where I'm at. She knows how to find me."

"She shouldn't have to."

Damn it.

"Is that what you want?" I question. "Me lookin' over your shoulder all the time?"

"It isn't just about me," he shakes his head. "I remember you and… when I was a kid, I remember. Mom told me not to talk about her again in front of you, but I remember you and Aunt Adie," he sighs, looking up at the stars. "And if she's why you're so afraid to come back, it shouldn't be."

Before I can figure out how the hell to respond to that or ask what the hell it even means, he gets to his feet and ducks back inside his and Carol's tent. Afraid. I wanna go in that tent and pull that kid back out, tell him I ain't afraid of nothin'. But he'd probably see through that shit, too. I toss some dirt on the fire and climb into my own tent, but I can't sleep, I can't, and by morning I've decided.

"Hey," Carol greets brightly, emerging from her tent.

"Hey," I echo, packing the bag I keep with my bike. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good," she nods. "Good. You?"

"Good," I lie. "Real good."

"Good," she chirps, reaching for the tea me and Henry made and left on the fire. "Good."

Yeah. Good. This is good. It's good. My heart feels like it's about ready to just beat its way right out of my chest and flop around on the ground like a fucking fish outta water. But it's good.

"Be ready to go in about 10 minutes," I inform her.

I ain't ready. I ain't ready to see her, but I gotta. I gotta.

*Adrienne's POV*

I'm hallucinating. Or dreaming or maybe it's the heat, maybe I need to sit down, because there's no way in hell, no way in fucking  _ hell. _ That bike is not here, the man on it is just a figment of my imagination, just a byproduct of the dumbass little bit of my brain devoted to wishful thinking. Tara's not fist bumping him, he isn't hugging her, he isn't taking off a familiar black bandanna and shaking out his hair,  _ he's not here. _

"Adie-"

"Nope," I cut Jesus off, ignoring his eyes burning a hole in the side of my head.

I don't fucking believe it.

Carol's here with Henry, watching me with that look she has like she  _ knows. _ She's smiling like I should be happy but I feel like I'm gonna be sick, because he  _ is _ here. He came roaring right through our gates like I spent  _ months _ waiting for,  _ months _ begging Carol to tell me where he is so I could go find him, bring him back, so I could just  _ see _ him.

_ I'm sorry, Adie. I can't tell you where he is. _

_ Why? _

_ He doesn't want you to know. _

She told me he just needed time, he wasn't gonna stay gone forever, just until he or Michonne found Rick, and I bit my tongue and  _ waited… _ I'd see Carol every so often and she'd tell me he's alive and one day I just gave up. He left. He was gone for good and he didn't want me with him and that's that. So why the  _ fuck  _ is he here now? I square my shoulders, marching right past him and Aaron, not bothering to see if he's even looking at me because it's been  _ six years,  _ why? _ Why  _ is he here?

"Car-"

"This is a pleasant surprise," Jesus interrupts, shooting me a warning glare. "What brings you all the way out here?"

"Henry," Carol says brightly, tearing her gaze from mine. "He's taken a stubborn interest in blacksmithing."

"Has he?" I blurt, voice right on the edge of hysteria, a sharp bark of laughter escaping my throat before I can stop it. "That's  _ great! _ That is so great, I… that is just really great. Great."

I can feel his eyes on my back and I refuse, I  _ refuse _ to look at him. Jesus is staring at me worriedly. Henry looks mildly terrified and Carol is still giving me that same bemused little grin.

"Excuse me," I rasp around the hard lump now settled in my throat. "I, uh… excuse me."

I whirl around and practically sprint into the house before anyone can see my tears, hurtle into Gregory's old office, closing the door behind me and collapsing against it. I fold in on myself, something breaking loose inside my chest, and sob silently into my hands.

*Daryl's POV*

"Thought I heard a bike," Aaron says warmly, pulling me in for a hug.

"Good to see you, man," I murmur, distracted by movement in my periphery.

Adrienne.

She don't look much different. Maybe some new lines at the corners of her eyes, her hair a little bit longer than before, but still that same fiery crimson that glows in the sun. She ain't looking at me, almost like she ain't aware that she's so close I can feel the wind following her body as she marches right past without a word. The ring on her finger catches the light and I can't believe she still wears it. I almost think I made her up.

Then I remember Aaron, just standing here while I stare like some kinda slack jawed moron.

"What you doin' here?" I question, patting one of the saddled horses that appear to be lined up and ready to go some place. "Somethin' up?"

"We found Rosita outside the walls yesterday," he informs me. "She's pretty banged up."

"Is she here?"

"Yeah."

He opens his mouth to say something else, but whatever it is, it's cut off by a slightly maniacal laugh just behind me. I glance over my shoulder, following Aaron's concerned gaze. Henry looks like he might run or puke and Jesus is looking like he's ready to physically restrain Adrienne, whose face I can't see 'cause her back is turned, but I'm pretty sure she ain't thrilled 'cause that laugh came from her, but it ain't her laugh, it ain't like it used to sound.

"Excuse me," she says. "I, uh… excuse me."

She whirls around abruptly, staring straight ahead and damn near fleeing into the house. Aaron chuckles softly and I ain't sure what the hell's funny about it 'cause I feel like something's got a vice grip on my heart and my eyes are stinging. I did this. I hurt her and I should've stayed gone. Aaron clears his throat.

"And, uh…" he continues where he left off. "Eugene's missing. We're headed out to go find him. Could use a good tracker."

"Yeah," I nod, 'cause maybe I shouldn't've come back but I'm here now and I ain't just gonna leave when we got people missing. "Of course."

"Go," Carol urges when I turn to her, silently asking permission.

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm," she nods.

"I'll go get Adie, then," Aaron sighs, turning to find her already making her way back down the steps of Barrington House, Alden in tow.

Oh, hell. Should've known she was coming.

*Adrienne's POV*

Eugene's still missing. Eugene's out there and he's probably hurt and scared and alone and here I am, bawling like a fucking baby, wasting his time. Daryl's back. He's here. So what? It doesn't change a damn thing, I still have shit I need to do. So I pick myself up, dust myself off, and open the door to reveal Alden, poised to knock.

"Hey," he greets, dropping his hand to his side and falling into step behind me as I stalk back outside.

"What do you need, Alden?" I question, voice clipped.

That's not very fair. None of this is his fault and he's a good kid. He's sweet to Enid, treats her the way Carl would have. I take a deep breath, coming to a halt beside my horse, who I'd named Voltaire, ignoring all the eyes I can feel on me, including a set of steely blues I never thought I'd see again.

"Sorry," I mutter, double checking Voltaire's saddle. "What's up?"

"Well, I was uh…" he shifts uncomfortably. "I was just gonna see if I could get an okay on takin' out that scrap metal crew today."

"Pull Kal from the gate and get Gina up there," I nod. "Take Oscar, Marco, and Sammy out. There's extra fuel in the cellar, take what you'll need and don't forget to mark it down, and  _ be safe. _ "

"Thanks, Mrs. Dixon."

I freeze. Since when the fuck are we not on a first name basis? Why- Enid. Enid put him up to it, I'm sure.

"Don't call me that," I mutter.

"Call you what?"

"Mrs. Dixon!" I hiss, glancing warily at where Daryl is mounting his bike.

"No," Alden says, eyes bright, adopting the air of someone explaining something very simple to a toddler. "I'm _Alden._ _You're_ Mrs. Dixon."

"Alden!"

"No, I'm Mrs. Dixon."

"I'm Mrs. Dixon!" I snap, frazzled, raking my fingers through my hair.

"Right," Alden says triumphantly.

"You son of a bitch," I mutter, sliding my foot into Voltaire's stirrup and settling into the saddle.

"See you later, Adie!" He chirps, offering me a shit eating grin as Daryl's engine roars to life.

"Dog!" Daryl hollers, a Belgian Malinois tearing towards the gate.

I didn't know he had a dog. Of course I didn't know, what the hell am I even thinking? I shake my head, clutching Voltaire's reins in my hands.

"Hyah!"

*Daryl's POV*

I didn't know Adie could ride horses. Guess I wouldn't, though. It's just me, her, Aaron, and Jesus, and I wish she wasn't here. I can't look at her and now that we're walking and not riding, there's very little buffer between us. She ain't said much at all and nothing directly to me, and I  _ deserve _ it. I swear, I can fucking  _ taste _ the guilt, and it's worse every time her ring flashes in the light. I tried to throw mine away. Got tired of seeing it and thinking about her, so I yanked the sumbitch off my finger and threw it. Hard. Dog took off after it. Brought it back. I was glad he did 'cause I regretted throwing it soon as it left my fingers, but I still didn't wanna look at it. I wear it on a shoelace around my neck, tucked into my shirt so I ain't gotta think about her. I wonder if she's noticed it ain't on my hand and what she thinks if she has.

I ain't got time to dwell on that shit now, though. We got a herd out here and they're doing something weird, all of 'em moving around in a big circle, like a whirlpool, in the middle of a field.

"It's about 130, 140 of 'em," I announce, joining the others under a tree they'd taken cover beneath.

"You ever seen 'em do this before?" Jesus questions.

"No," Aaron says flatly, Adie shaking her head. "Never."

"Rosita's back trail goes right through 'em," I mutter. "We should get the horses, circle around, then we'll pick it up on foot."

"What about them?" Aaron asks, tilting his head at the herd.

"What about 'em?"

"They're just milling around," Jesus murmurs. "That's not… normal."

"Nope," Adie agrees, straightening up from where she's crouched between the others. "It's not."

"We should go," I urge, the wind picking up around us. "There's a storm comin'. Dog!"

*Adrienne's POV*

"Daryl says he's been trading with Hilltop again."

This pulls me out of my head and into Jesus and Aaron's conversation.

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" I demand.

Jesus glares at Aaron like he'd just said something he wasn't supposed to before his eyes flicker to mine.

"He asked me not to tell you."

" _ Why? _ " I breathe, vision blurring as I stare at the man several yards ahead of us.

"I… I thought you knew," Aaron stutters, eyeing me apologetically.

"I…" I trail off, angrily swiping away an errant tear. "I didn't know."

"He used to come like clockwork a couple times a year," Jesus sighs. "When you were visiting the Kingdom. Never stayed, though."

I know I shouldn't be upset at Jesus or Carol, I know that. They're loyal. If Daryl asked me not to tell them something, I know I'd keep it a secret. But Jesus Christ, it hurts. I guess it was pretty stupid of me to think he'd been getting by without any help at all for six years, but if anyone could do that, it's Daryl. I never questioned that part. I just thought… I don't know what I thought. That I meant enough, that we could handle anything as long as we were  _ we. _ But he left and he stayed gone and he purposely hid from me and I had to deal with losing Rick on my own. And his ring is gone.

"The gaps between the trips got longer and longer," Jesus continues. "Prefers it out here, I suppose."

"I suppose," I mumble.

"Sounds like somebody else I know," Aaron points out, glancing at Jesus.

"We used to be explorers," Jesus chuckles. "The whole world was ours to rediscover."

"Well, we were out looking for people," Aaron says. "Offering them a chance to be part of something bigger. Because of you, we were able to find each other."

"You can thank Adie for that," Jesus mutters, attempting to deflect. "She wanted to shoot me the day we met."

"I still do when I think about that truckload of supplies rottin' at the bottom of a lake," I point out, elbowing him.

"You know," Aaron says, steering the conversation right back where Jesus doesn't want it. "Maybe showing those people a way forward is the next step in that."

"I just don't think that I'm-"

"I do," Aaron interrupts, adamant. "I think you'd be a damn good leader if you'd just stop fighting it."

"You think that's what I'm doing?" Jesus demands, stopping in his tracks.

"He's spent a long time keeping people away," Aaron points out, nodding at Daryl. "But finding them…" he eyes me pointedly. "It's kind of his thing. Maybe one day, he'll stop fighting it, too."

Maybe I should've switched places with Tara, stayed behind to keep an eye on things and let her hang out with Daryl's biggest fans. Because the longer I'm around him, the harder it's getting, and I still can't quite figure out why he's here, after all this time.

"The herd," he announces abruptly. "It's comin' for us. The wind is carryin' the sound."

Shit. It sure as hell is. He reaches into his vest, producing an old fashioned alarm clock, which he winds up and flings across the field.

"C'mon," he instructs. "Let's put some ground between us and them."

*Daryl's POV*

"Just ask him!" Adie hisses, Jesus rolling his eyes and turning toward me.

She's squinting into her binoculars, eyeing the herd while it shambles through the field adjacent to the little thicket of trees we're currently taking cover beneath.

"You put that herd around 140, right?" Jesus questions.

Really? She's really not gonna ask me herself? Fine. I ain't gonna beg her to talk to me.

"Yeah."

"Looks like more than double that now," Jesus informs me.

"Could be a different herd," Aaron suggests.

"It's not," Adie says flatly.

"Or it merged with another one," Aaron shrugs.

"Ain't gon' be there very long," I point out, and just like clockwork, we hear the alarm on the other side of the field go off. "Don't matter how big it is, as long as it's goin' the other way. Come on."

We all move out, or at least I think it's all of us.

"Adie?" Jesus prompts.

She's still standing there, binoculars glued to her face.

"Adie, come on," Jesus tries again.

"They're not turnin'," she mutters.

"Yeah, well, they will," I grunt. "C'mon, we're gonna lose the light."

She hesitates a split second longer before turning to follow. She can hate me the rest of our lives, I know I deserve that much, but she's still gotta trust me, right? I wouldn't put her in danger. The herd's gonna turn.

Eventually, the sky turns black, thunder rolling overhead, lightning tearing the night in two. We were supposed to be back at Hilltop by now, but going around that damn herd took a huge chunk of the day. Still, Dog picked up Rosita's scent, so even though it's dark and hard to see even with flashlights, he was able to lead us to a large barn in the middle of the woods. This has gotta be where Eugene's holed up. We can stay the night here and head back at dawn.

"Go on, boy," I command, waving Dog into the building first. "Go find 'im."

He tears inside, the four of us following his lead, his nose going nuts. He sniffs his way across the ground to a pile of loose straw, snuffling around for a few seconds before turning to look at me, whining softly.

"Move," I tell him, making my way towards the hay pile, and he does. "Good dog. Hey," I motion the others forward, Jesus poking around the straw with his sword.

"Here," He says, stepping aside when metal clinks against metal.

There must be a root cellar down there. Good place to hide.

"Eugene," Adie calls softly.

"Eugene," Aaron echoes. "You in there?"

It's silent a few more seconds, but Adie's rapidly losing her patience.

"Eugene!" She hisses.

"Affirmative."

She drops to her knees, frantically clearing the hay from the floor, me, Jesus, and Aaron following suit, until a weathered wooden door emerges. She yanks it open, revealing Eugene cowering beneath, terrified and hurt, knife ready to put somebody's eye out, but otherwise just fine.

"Eugene," She breathes, offering her hand.

He surrenders his blade, allowing Jesus and Aaron to pull him up, but he's in a lot of pain, favoring one leg. He don't look quite right, neither. Like he knows he's in a room full of people he can trust, but he don't recognize who they are, and I'm hoping he didn't hit his head.

"Eugene," Aaron murmurs, helping get him settled against the wall. "Eugene… you all right?"

"I took a bad step and dislocated my knee."

"Oh, shit," Adie hisses, inhaling sharply. "I don't envy you right now."

"Well, if it's dislocated, we can just pop it back in," I point out.

"No, you can't." Adie says flatly, kneeling down beside him, sliding her pack from her shoulders and rooting around inside it. "Not when it's a knee. Jesus, break me off a piece of that door please," she instructs. "If he bends this knee, I mean at all, he could do more damage and lose his leg. How's the swellin'?"

"Bad," Eugene says, and I know it's gotta be real bad to reduce him to using words with only one syllable.

"Here," Adie mutters, producing an instant cold pack from her bag, squeezing and shaking it before placing it in Eugene's trembling hand. "It's not ice, but it'll be better than nothin' til we get you back home."

At this point, Jesus has managed to hack a wooden slat from the door, which Adie snatches and snaps in half lengthwise, then hands back to him.

"I need you to hold 'em on either side of his leg," she orders, Jesus sinking to his knees beside her and doing what he's told. "A little higher, please. You're gonna be glad you didn't wear shorts, Eugene," she huffs, pulling a roll of duct tape from the side pocket of her backpack. "'Cause this is what we got. We gotta get your knee stabilized, try not to bend it, okay? You'll mess up your ligaments, maybe not ever walk again."

"How do you know all this?" I blurt, and she freezes like it's a gunshot.

"Soccer injury," she mutters. "Tenth grade. Hurt like a bitch. Hold still, Eugene. How'd you get here?"

"There was a herd on our six and Rosita was forced to stash me here," he explains, wincing as Adie wraps the tape around his leg, holding the pieces of wood in place.

"All right," she says, tearing open a pill packet, dumping two small, white tablets into her palm and promptly placing them directly into Eugene's open mouth. "Take these. We can stay the ni-"

"No," he protests, dry swallowing the pills. "We have to get outta here. The herd that followed us here is on its way back."

"No, I saw their tracks," I assure him. "They're gone."

"No, it's not," he insists tearfully. "It's already been through here twice. It's lookin' for me. We have to get away before it comes back."

"What do you mean, it's lookin'?" Adie demands.

"This  _ wasn't  _ a normal herd."

"What do you mean?" Aaron questions softly.

"When, when they passed us by," Eugene stutters, terror in his eyes. "We could hear them, they were… they were whisperin' to each other."

"That's not possible," Adie breathes.

"You mean they were… talking?" Aaron asks.

"I, I know how it sounds," Eugene whimpers. "But Rosita heard it, too. She'll corroborate."

"Yeah," Aaron soothes, Adie smoothing Eugene's hair back, laying the back of her hand across his forehead.

Her brow furrows and I wonder if it's 'cause he's got a fever or 'cause he don't.

"We should get him back," I murmur.

"Yeah," Aaron agrees.

Before anyone can move, though, Dog starts barking. They're here.


	7. Somethin' Worth Dyin' For

**Chapter 7**

"There's no way that's the same herd," I mutter, eyeing the walkers through the window, shambling closer and closer in the darkness.

"They got us cut off," Aaron points out.

"C'mon, Eugene," Adie grunts, pulling the man to his feet.

"No, no, no, no, no," he protests, whimpering in pain.

"So we'll backtrack," I order, all of us moving despite Eugene's whining, Aaron and me supporting his weight. "We'll go around 'em."

"Old Route 28 isn't far," Jesus announces. "Straightest shot back to the horses."

"Lead the way," I grunt.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Shut up, Eugene!" I hiss. "I know it hurts, believe me, but you're gonna lead 'em right to us."

"You're gonna get me-" he spits through gritted teeth, whatever he was about to say cut off when he snarls in pain.

"It doesn't make any sense," Jesus says, he and Daryl depositing Eugene on the hood of a rusted out car. "They shouldn't've doubled back like that, and they  _ definitely _ shouldn't've followed us all the way to the barn."

"I do have a theory to posit," Eugene grunts, attempting to bend his knee against the splint.

"Do  _ not! _ " I snap, placing a hand flat over his knee cap. "Don't bend it."

"The walkers are evolvin'," he continues breathlessly.

"Oh, that's bullshit," Daryl growls.

"They're dead," Jesus points out. "They're not  _ evolving. _ "

"Bein' dead hasn't exactly stopped 'em from perambulatin' ad infinitum, though, has it?" Eugene demands, met with silence and blank faces.

"Walkin'," I clarify, eyeing the trees warily. "He means walkin'."

"They're not dead in any sense that  _ makes  _ sense," he continues. "It takes an impact to the cranium to stop them, which means the brain is alive, degraded as it may be, and if it's alive, it can  _ change. _ Maybe even start to remember things, too, like how to  _ talk! _ "

"What?" Daryl demands, glaring at him.

"It's not any crazier than the dead being alive in the first place," Jesus says. "If they can learn to talk, maybe they can learn strategy and how to hunt."

"Oh, you've gotta be fuckin'  _ shittin'  _ me," I huff. " _ Every goddamn time _ we think we're ahead of the game!"

"They're right on our asses," Aaron announces, sprinting from the trees. "We gotta get to the horses, fast."

"You have to leave me behind," Eugene says adamantly. "I'm slowin' you down and tirin' you out. Every time we stop, the dead get closer."

"You're right," I hiss. "So get up."

"We came out here to find you, we're not going home without you," Jesus insists.

"You don't have a choice," Eugene says stubbornly.

"It's not your call," Jesus snaps. "The numbers actually work for us. We can split up. You two get him back to the horses," he points at Aaron and Daryl. "Adie and I will wait for the herd to get here, then we'll draw 'em off in the other direction."

"No, no, no," Aaron protests.

"Then we'll ditch 'em and meet you back at the Hilltop," Jesus continues loudly over him.

"We're stronger together," Aaron insists.

"That doesn't  _ help _ us," Jesus points out. "Our only way out of this is to avoid a fight."

"He's right," I agree. "We're stronger together, but," I gesture between Jesus and I. "We're  _ faster. _ "

"No," Daryl argues. "If anyone stays, it's gon' be me."

"Alone?" I demand, glaring at him.

"Go," he waves us off without looking at me. "They carry him, you cover 'em. Hell, I'll probably beat you back."

"Dar-"

"Go!" He shouts, cutting me off, already running, his dog in tow.

"Come on," Jesus urges, he and Aaron flanking Eugene, supporting his weight, and scurrying into the trees.

Fuck. I don't have a choice. I turn away from Daryl's retreating form and tear into the woods in the opposite direction.

*Daryl's POV*

I didn't wanna leave her again, I really didn't, but I had to either way, and if I was gonna have to leave her, no way in hell am I leaving her to wait for a goddamn herd to try and outrun. I don't care if she agrees. She can scream at me if she wants when we all make it back to Hilltop. I'm perched up on top of an old trailer home when the herd finally shows up,  _ perambulating _ slowly past, no smarter or more evolved than they've ever looked. It ain't the same herd. No way.

"All right, boy," I murmur. "Let's get 'em."

I open my pack, retrieving my lighter and a string of firecrackers, lighting the fuse and tossing the string down into the street. Dog don't like fireworks, but him barking his mangy little head off is actually a bonus this time.

"Dog, keep 'em comin'," I murmur when the firecrackers stop, and he keeps right on barking.

It's working, but only for a second. I watch in horror as the stragglers that were breaking away from the herd slowly turn back around, shambling back into place and continuing their lethargic shuffle away from us.

"Shh, shh, shh!" I hiss, dropping to my stomach and holding my hand down where Dog can see it.

No fucking way. But they are, they're  _ hunting, _ meandering into the trees I'd watched Adie and the others haul ass into just minutes ago.

*Adrienne's POV*

We can hear them, the growling. They're getting closer and I'm trying not to think about what that might mean, about Daryl maybe not being alive, 'cause even though I'm probably gonna be pissed forever, I can't, I  _ can't  _ deal with that. He can leave, he can live like a fucking hermit for the rest of his life, just as long as he's  _ living. _ We're making decent progress, despite the fog and despite Eugene's leg, just having reached the cemetery only yards from the road.

"They're still on us," Aaron worries, which is an understatement, because they're here.

"Come on, come on, come on!" Jesus urges, he and Aaron desperately trying to get Eugene to move just a little faster.

"Here!" I hiss breathlessly, pointing out a crumbling spot in the stone wall surrounding the cemetery. "We can get through, come on."

"We can use it, use it as a choke point to slow them down," Jesus agrees.

He climbs through the hole first, whirling around to help Aaron get Eugene through behind him.

"Come on!" Aaron snarls, pushing through after Eugene. "Move!"

I scramble through behind him and we're running again, but we're still on borrowed time. A dilapidated wall isn't gonna hold back a herd that size forever.

"Oh, we're gonna get lost in here," Aaron says hopelessly.

"No, we're not!" I insist.

"Follow the wall," Jesus instructs. "There has to be a gate somewhere."

"There!" I point, Jesus already running for the gate, leaving Aaron to hold up Eugene.

I turn my back to them while Jesus struggles with the wrought iron gate, kicking futilely at the dirt, rattling the gate on its hinges. It won't budge and walkers are coming through the wall, shapeless shadows in the fog drawing closer and closer.

"We can lift him over here!" Jesus hollers frantically.

I glance over my shoulder, watching Eugene struggle to get over the wall the gate is set into, Jesus and Aaron trying their damnedest, but it's too high, it's too high and that splint is unwieldy and he's not gonna make it over that wall in time because they're here.

"Eugene, you keep your back to that wall!" I hiss. "Knife out."

Aaron, Jesus, and I form a line in front of him, taking out the walkers as they come, and we can do this. We've done this before, we just need to fight a little longer, and the only thing I'm worried about during the first wave of the dead is avoiding being nicked by Jesus's sword. Until I hear them. Eugene was right. They're whispering to each other.

"Where are they?"

"No fuckin' way," I shake my head, searching frantically for the source of the whispers, because surely,  _ surely _ it's not the dead.

"Eugene!"

I haven't heard that voice in… Christ, it's been at least a year. Longer.

"Michonne!" Eugene blurts, whirling around to eye the woman at the gate. "Honest to God, am I happy to see you. The gate's obstructed by topsoil erosion, we can't get out."

"I need you to push," Michonne instructs.

She pulls desperately at the gate while Eugene pushes, two other women I don't recognize showing up and flanking her, each tugging at the gate.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Michonne demands.

"Earning our keep," one of the women mutters.

"They got it!" I holler, watching the gate swing open just enough.

"Get him outta here," Jesus commands, waving Aaron and I away. "Go! I got this."

"Not alone, you don't!" I snarl, hurling my knife into the walker just behind him.

Aaron tears towards the gate, helping Eugene through, while Jesus and I duck and dodge and dance with the dead. The whispers are new, but this isn't. This is so familiar, so rehearsed at this point… we can still beat them.

"Adie, Jesus!" Aaron shouts, holding the gate open for us. "Come on!"

We make a run for it, Jesus moving to take out one last walker, clearing a path for us, but before his sword can connect, the walker ducks, dodging the blade, whirling around and thrusting a knife through Jesus's back.

"You…" it whispers. "Are where you do not belong."

"No!" Aaron shrieks, Jesus dropping to the ground. "No!"

I hurl myself at the walker or whatever this thing is, blade out and blood boiling, but it ducks again, and it has to be a person, it has to be, nothing dead moves this fast, and I'm sure the last thing I'm ever gonna see is the knife flashing in its hand, inches from my throat, but then it drops, an arrow protruding from its head. There are more of them, these things with walker faces, tearing through the cemetery at us, but now we know what Jesus didn't. We know they're fast, we know they have weapons, but we are faster and we kill every last one of them.

When it's all over, Aaron sinks to his knees beside Jesus, sobbing, and I know I was right in suspecting they weren't just friends, but right doesn't mean shit right now because Jesus is gone and I can't move. I can't speak. Jesus is the fast one, nothing ever takes him by surprise. You can't sneak up on him, you  _ can't  _ one up him, he will always catch you and laugh at you for even trying, but he's not laughing and he's not getting up.

"Hey," Daryl grunts, his fingers brushing mine. "Come here."

He motions to the body at his feet, the one he killed to protect me, and I crouch down beside it.

"These walkers," Michonne murmurs, staring down at the body. "What are they?"

Daryl brushes the hair back from the skull of the walker, revealing stitch marks running up the center. These aren't walkers. Daryl drops his bow, pinching this thing's skin between his thumb and forefinger, pulling it tight and sawing through the stitching, and when the face comes off… it's a man, wearing a walker's skin like a mask. They're people. And there's more of them, more people and more walkers and it's impossible to tell what's what and, over the growls of the dead, over the barking from Daryl's dog... we can hear them.

"They're trapped."

"Circle 'round."

"Don't let them slip by."

"Keep them together."

"You die now."

*Daryl's POV*

I ain't seen Adie this scared ever, maybe not even in the clearing where Glenn died. She's never scared, she's always the first one to look fear right in the goddamn eyes and say fuck you.  _ Always. _ She's terrified. But she's still standing here, knife held steady, watching these things creep across the dirt toward us.

"Go," Michonne murmurs. "Now."

Aaron slips his blade into the base of Jesus's skull, one of them girls who showed up with Michonne snatching the walker mask from the ground. Proof of what we saw here, I guess.

"Go," Adie whispers, eyes flickering to where Aaron's struggling to lift Jesus's body on his own. "Help him. We'll cover you."

It only takes a minute, me and Aaron got Jesus off the ground and out the gate, but Adie and Michonne are still fighting, still killing, sword and knife flashing, both gleaming with fresh blood. Human blood that came from the living, and I don't know what the hell to do except get us all the hell back home.

"Come on!" I holler. "Let's go!"

*Adrienne's POV*

The sun's up by the time we make it back to the field where we'd left the horses and I'm still in shock. I can't process this, I can't accept it, I can't. But there's Jesus's body, hanging limp between Aaron and Daryl, to remind me that this is real. This is  _ real. _ There are living, breathing people out there wearing walker faces, using  _ herds _ to hunt other living, breathing people. It's insane. It's sick.

"Who the hell would do this?" One of the women Michonne brought along, Yumiko, hisses as we make our way across the field. "Even  _ think  _ about doing this?"

"I suspect some vessel," Eugene begins, hobbling along with an arm each around Michonne and I. "Filled with a chunky salsa of abnormal impulses and metastasized rage."

"It's full on batshit," the other stranger, Magna, remarks.

"You think there's more?" Aaron questions.

"Yeah," Daryl grunts.

"So…" Yumiko sighs. "What do we do?"

"Keep movin'," I mutter.

*Daryl's POV*

"Eugene!" Adie hisses. "For the  _ last  _ time, you are  _ not  _ ridin' side saddle! We are  _ not _ stoppin' to adjust, it would  _ not _ be a better option  _ 'comfort and or legroom wise, like a Buick', _ you'd fall on your ass before we made it two feet,  _ and…  _ you'd look ridiculous. Shut. Up."

It's the most I've heard her speak all morning. She sounds exhausted and she got the short end when it came to riding companions. Them two girls we don't know are sharing Aaron's horse, and Aaron… he's leading Jesus's horse, Jesus's body draped over the saddle. Adie's on her massive black quarter horse, Eugene's arms placed awkwardly around her, and even though the last thing that matters right now is whether or not we're happy with our travel arrangements, to her credit, Eugene's been casually bringing up the side saddle shit for over an hour.

"Judith found them," Michonne says, assuming I'm looking over my shoulder every five minutes at the strangers she bought with her.

I'm content to let her think that, 'cause even though I ain't sure about new people, I ain't actually looking at them.

"Vouched for 'em," she continues. "So do I."

"All right," I mutter.

"It's gonna mean a lot to them," she says. "Bringin' him back. Burying him."

She's talking about Jesus, but she ain't talking about Jesus and I know she knows I know it.

"Sorry I couldn't do that for you," I murmur.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do it for both of us," she says, stricken. "Thank you. For trying to find him. And… for after."

I just clap her on the shoulder, but before I can move my hand, she places hers over mine. I missed this. I'm feeling it more and more the longer I'm with 'em. I missed not being alone.

*Adrienne's POV*

"I wish I'd met him before," Magna says, forcing me to tear my eyes from Daryl's and Michonne's hands.

Now I wonder if she knew where he was, too. If everyone knew and was sworn to secrecy. Don't tell Adie, she might get her feelings involved, and no one wants that. Ha. I know it's selfish. I'm riding next to my best friend's dead body, for Christ's sake. Maybe he didn't tell me the truth about certain things, but he got me through losing Rick and he got me through when Maggie left and he was  _ there. _

"Sounds like he was a good one," Magna finishes.

"He was," I murmur, the air stinging my dry eyes. "He was one of the best."

"He was," Aaron agrees. "Shouldn't have been out here."

"It's my fault," Eugene says sadly, his arms tightening around my waist. "If I hadn't-"

"Jesus made his own decisions," Aaron snaps, head whirling to glare at the man behind me. "We all knew the risks of being out here. Knowin' we shouldn't be."

Eugene, Rosita, and Aaron were all out here against Michonne's very explicit instructions. No one leaves Alexandria without her say-so. It's why she feels like a stranger to me, why I haven't gotten to see Judith grow up, why I haven't gotten to see little RJ since he was just tiny, why our communities are falling apart. She's just throwing away everything Rick died to protect because she can't let him go. I can understand. She needed a body. So did Daryl, that's what Carol said. That he was just gonna be out there until he found him, but he never did find him and he didn't come back until now and I still don't know  _ why. _ But… he  _ is _ here.

"We should be, Aaron," I blurt. "Out here, I mean. We need to be. Jesus was out here because _he_ thought stayin' together was important enough to risk dyin' for."

"Maybe what happened was bound to happen," Aaron says, not quite convinced, just as Daryl's dog starts to bark.

"We've got movement," I point into the woods just off the road, several walkers moving through the trees.

"The livin' kind or original recipe?" Eugene questions.

"Let's find out," Daryl mutters, eyeing a covered bridge just down the way. "Good dog."

-

"It's good to see you."

Michonne and I are hidden in the trees on one side of the covered bridge, waiting for the walkers to shuffle their way past us. Daryl, Yumiko, and Magna are on the other side, waiting for the same thing. Aaron, Eugene, the dog, and the horses are a bit further down the road, waiting for us. We'll catch up when we're done. It's the first time Michonne's spoken to me directly in I can't count how long.

"Are you… how are you?"

"Are we really doin' this now?" I blurt, Michonne recoiling at the ice in my voice.

We just lost Jesus. Eugene's hurt so bad he can't walk, never mind  _ run _ if we need to, Daryl's here and I don't know how the hell to feel about that, we're being followed by walkers who may or may not actually be walkers, I have a body to take home and a colony to run by myself and I can't fill his shoes. I can't lead our people and now we have this new threat to deal with and I don't know what I'm gonna do without Jesus, and she wants to know how I am?

"Look, I know…" she trails off, sighing. "I know it hasn't been easy, but-"

"Hasn't been  _ easy? _ " I repeat, chuckling bitterly. "Things are past not easy and they have been for a  _ long _ time," I let my eyes flicker to hers. "But at least before, we were dealin' with it together."

She doesn't say anything but I know she hears me. Things only feel harder now because she's pulling away. Because Daryl left and Maggie left. Rick was the glue that kept us hanging on and we got lost for a little bit there towards the end, but we were gonna be okay, we were gonna build that bridge and it was gonna be us again, and then Rick… the bridge took us down with it and it's really fucking sad because we're still  _ here. _

"They're coming," Michonne sighs.

"I hear 'em."

It's a pretty small group, not even a dozen. Michonne and I make our way up the embankment once the last walker disappears from sight, the sharp thwang of Daryl's bow alerting us to his presence on the other side of the bridge. Michonne and I station ourselves on our side while Daryl loads another bolt, firing into another walker's leg, only this one drops to the ground, howling in pain.

Three of the walkers turn back only to find me and Michonne blocking their way out. We've got 'em from both ends. Magna and Yumiko appear behind Daryl, and between the five of us we've taken out all the real walkers, leaving only one of the masked freaks standing. It's a woman, I'm pretty sure. She's panicking, all her friends dead on the ground around her, but I've gotta give her a little credit. She's not dropping her knife, not until-

"Drop it!" Daryl snarls.

She's got no choice here and she knows it. Her knife clatters to the ground as she drops to her knees, Daryl holding her at knife point and yanking the mask from her head. She's young, maybe Henry's age.

"Please," she whimpers, staring up at Daryl. "Please don't kill me. Please."

No one speaks for a moment, and Daryl tosses the mask to Michonne, who catches it by the thatch of hair still attached to the skin.

"How many?" She demands.

"Please…" the girl cries. "You killed 'em all, it's just me now."

Wrong answer.

I grab a handful of the girl's hair, roughly yanking her head back, and lay my blade, still dripping with the blood of her people, flush with her throat.

"I don't believe you," Michonne snarls.

There are more walkers coming, though, headed right for us. Too many to handle with just the five of us and still keep this girl secure.

"There ain't no time," Daryl murmurs. "We'll take her with us."

For a second, I debate just slitting her throat and calling it a day. But only for a second. We need to know who these people are. We need to know  _ where  _ they are and if there are more and what they know about us. I let her go. She's sobbing. I feel nothing for her. All I see when I look at the tears sliding down her cheeks is Jesus's body hitting the ground. Fine. We'll take her with us. We'll stick her in a cell and do whatever we have to do to get her to talk. Then I'll slit her throat.

"Get up," Daryl commands, pulling her to her feet, holding her securely by the arm.

"Hey!" Michonne snaps, pressing the walker mask up against the girl's face. "You try anything, you won't have to  _ pretend. _ "

"Let's go," Daryl urges. "Come on."

Michonne drops the mask, which hits the ground with a wet slap, and the two of us follow Daryl back to the horses. It's a long way home, longer now I'm on foot. We had to stick the girl somewhere. But we get home eventually, our people looking up hopefully, happy for their leader's return, and, as we pass through, each face falls. Tara's the first to approach, tears slipping silently down her cheeks as she lays a hand over Jesus's back. Her eyes flicker to mine and then we're collapsing into each other, clinging to each other, because he was our leader, too.

She and I step aside to allow Daryl, Magna, and Yumiko to lift his body from the horse, and even though all I want to do is cry, I can't. We don't get to do that. I can't, because I have to be strong for the people here. I have to show them it's gonna be okay, we're gonna  _ make _ it okay. That's what we do. So when Daryl and Michonne pull our hostage down and escort her towards the cells, I wipe my tears, square my shoulders, and follow them.

"Is this who did it?" Tammy Rose demands.

"No," Michonne tells her. "One of her people."

"You lockin' her up?"

It takes me a moment to register her question is directed at me.

"For the time bein'," I nod. "Until we have some answers."

"And then what?"

I… I don't know.

"Adie, Jesus trusted you, so we're all lookin' to you now," Tammy continues. "But people are gonna want justice for this. And when that time comes, we're gonna look to you for that, too."

I'm frozen. I don't have the answers. Jesus was good at this. Rick was good at this,  _ Maggie _ was good at this. I'm just one of them. I can't be who they need me to be, I can't. I feel something touch my arm and look down to see Tara's hand there. She's still here. She's still here and we're gonna get through this.

"She knows," she assures Tammy, leading me down the stairs behind Daryl, Michonne, and the girl.

*Daryl's POV*

"Get inside," I command, shoving the girl into her cell.

Tara and Michonne follow her into the cell, but Adie's still standing just outside the bars, watching. I ain't sure she's seeing what's actually in front of her and I don't know if I should touch her or maybe say something to try and comfort her, or if she'd even let me. Before I can figure it out, though, a familiar voice is calling my name.

"Daryl?"

Oh, god damn it. I turn the corner to find Henry locked in a different cell. Something tells me he ain't just hanging out in there. I'll deal with this later.

"What's going on?" Henry questions.

"Jesus is dead."

"What?"

*Adrienne's POV*

"No more bullshit!" Michonne snarls, hurling the girl onto a small, wooden chair in the middle of her cell.

Michonne and Tara are in there and I know I should probably be stepping up but I'm not. Henry's down here and I don't know what the hell he did, but I guess I'm gonna have to deal with that, too. But I don't want to. I don't want to do any of this, at least not until Jesus is in the ground. Daryl materializes at my side, holding his hands up apologetically when I jump, startled. I don't know why he's so close to me. I shuffle a couple steps over, turning my attention back to the cell.

"I already told you-" the girl whimpers.

"How many more of you are there?" Michonne demands.

"They're all dead," she insists tearfully. "My family's dead. Please just stop."

"Not until you start answering our questions," Michonne snaps.

"Your name," Tara prompts. "Start with your name."

"I told you, I don't have one. None of us do. None of us  _ did. _ That's not how it worked."

"How did it work?" Michonne hisses.

"Why do you wear their skins?" Daryl demands, still just a little too close. "Answer!"

"They were…" the girl sobs. "They were good people. We were good..."

"Your people," I murmur quietly, stepping into the cell and moving until I'm standing right over her. " _ Terrorized _ my people. One of 'em was dyin' when we found her, another won't ever walk the same, and another-" I bite back a sob, voice rising as rage floods my belly. "Another is  _ dead. _ You people wear their skin and use 'em like soldiers,  _ why? _ "

"It's what we did to live," she cries. "That's, that's all we wanted to do. Live."

"Oh, so you're saying you  _ had _ to do this?" Tara demands.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Then  _ make  _ us understand," Michonne snarls. "What the hell were you doing?"

"We, we were just trying to see if they were good people, too. But then you attacked us and now they're dead. They're all dead. And I don't have anything."

"What did your people know about us?" Michonne demands, leaning forward and gripping the back of the girl's chair. "Do they know about this place?"

"I don't know," the girl whispers.

"Huh?!"

"I don't know, I don't know anything!" She insists, dissolving into tears. "They didn't tell me anything. Please stop asking me. Just leave me alone, please. Please just leave me alone."

*Daryl's POV*

"I don't trust a word comin' outta her mouth," Michonne hisses as she, Adie, Tara, and I step back outside.

"Yeah," Adie huffs. "'Cause it's bullshit."

"We'll get it out of her," I assure them.

"We try again in the morning," Tara decides.

"You'll have to do it without me," Michonne announces. "Taking my people back first thing."

" _ Your  _ people," Adie repeats, staring at the woman in disbelief.

"Can't risk them not knowin' about this back home," Michonne shakes her head.

"Fine," Adie says after a moment, voice like ice.

"Thanks," Tara blurts. "For, for being here and for helping," she turns to Adie. "That group she brought in, what do you wanna do about that?"

Adie looks like she's trying to will the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

"Hey," Tara says gently, touching her arm. “It’s your call now.”

"Oh, god," Adie sighs, raking her hands through her hair in a gesture so damn familiar it hurts. "I guess we're gonna let 'em stay. It's what Jesus would want."

"Thanks, Adie," Michonne murmurs.

Adie just nods, not quite looking anybody in the eyes, wheeling abruptly and stalking off, Tara in tow.

"Keeping her here's a risk," Michonne points out as they round the corner of the house and disappear. "You know that. We both do."

"Yeah," I nod. "I know. I'll get her to talk."

"If she doesn't… you know what you have to do."

-

"Does alcohol always make you feel this bad?"

Kid had himself a party last night. After chewing him out something fierce, Adie agreed to release Henry from his cell for some air, only because  _ 'you look like shit, kiddo',  _ on the condition he don't leave her sight, and since I'm only here to keep an eye on him, I ain't letting him outta my sight, neither. I'd like to think that's why I'm sitting here on a bench with him, watching Adie and Aaron dig a grave, at least. I know it ain't the only reason.

"No," I grunt. "But actin' stupid does. What the hell were you thinkin', anyway?"

"I wasn't," he mumbles. "Fresh air's helping, though."

"Well, don't get too used to it," I tell him. "Two minutes, your ass is goin' right back in there."

"Seriously?" He demands, stricken.

"Earl says you got one more night," I remind him. "So you got one more night."

"Aunt Adie-"

"Already agreed."

He's quiet for a few seconds, and I wonder if he's thinking up a good argument. Tough shit. He ain't gonna act out just 'cause his mother ain't here to ride his ass about it. That shit's what got me and Merle in trouble a lot of the time. And we always had a reason, some dumb ass excuse for the shit we did.

"Daryl, I'm sorry, really."

I just nod. I'll believe it if I hear it tomorrow morning when he ain't sicker than shit.

"I… I guess I wanna find my place," he continues. "And I knew who I was at the Kingdom. But who am I here?"

How the hell would I know? I don't even know who I am here or if I'm anybody anymore. Adie's still got that ring on. It keeps catching the light while she digs, furiously jamming her shovel into the earth, like if she can just hit something hard enough she'll feel better, and every time I see that flash of light in my periphery I remember when I used to be somebody. Maybe I could be again.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Jesus…" I trail off, eyeing the people gathered at his graveside, people who are looking at me like I have the answers, like I can help them keep going without him. "Jesus was fearless. He was funny and loyal and…" I chuckle sadly, wiping a stray tear from my eye. "And so damned stubborn. He was everything a friend should be. He reminded us what it means to be alive  _ now. _ What it means to be a family and how to take care of each other always. He didn't die because of… because of someone else," I let my eyes flicker around my people, landing on Michonne, and I find myself talking to just her now. "He died because he believed there's still somethin' worth dyin' for. He believed in  _ us, _ and the best way I can think to honor him… is to move forward with each other. To heal from this and fix what needs fixin' and to always,  _ always _ remember that the only thing left worth dyin' for is each other and hold onto that with  _ everything _ we have. To Jesus.”

I raise my glass, taking a sip before pouring the rest into the dirt beside his marker. Gin. I hate gin.


	8. Your Mom Sounds Nice

**Chapter 8**

*Daryl's POV*

"Tell me you didn't sleep up there," Michonne says incredulously the next morning, eyeing me as I sprint down the stairs from the hayloft, Dog already off and running.

"You mean the penthouse suite?" I question sarcastically. "Dog picked it."

"Alden and Luke should've been back by now," she says quietly. "Could be nothing. Could be somethin'. You know what you're gonna do with that girl?"

"Why is this even up to me?" I demand.

This ain't my place.

"'Cause you're the best damn judge of character I know," she insists. "Without Jesus  _ or _ Maggie, these people need you."

"They got Adie."

"Adie's smart," she concedes. "She's the  _ second _ best judge of character I know. She's tough and she  _ could  _ do it alone…" she trails off, eyeing something behind me.

I glance over my shoulder, surprised to see Dog seated obediently in front of the redhead in question. We watch for a moment, Adie crouching down in front of the pup, scratching his ears and saying something we can't hear. Dog's tail is gonna wag right off his damn body and whip somebody in the face. He likes her. Of course he does.

"But she's been doin' it alone for too long," Michonne murmurs and I ain't sure she means Adie or if she means herself or both. "What we did, bringin' Jesus back, it's gonna help them move on. But after that, it's about doing whatever it takes to not bury more."

I guess I'm still somebody to Michonne. I'm still somebody to Carol, 'cause she brought me here. I need to step up for them, at least. Try. if I'm still somebody to them, I think maybe I can be somebody to Adie again, too. Fix it. Spend as much time as I can trying.

"All right," I mutter.

-

"Who are you?" I demand, the girl in the cell dropping from her chair and scrambling into the corner.

I flip through the keys on the ring Adie had given me, no questions asked, not even pausing for a breath while she rattled off orders to a group of watchmen, selecting the key that fits this lock and letting myself in.

"Answer the question," I mutter, but she's just staring up at me like she's terrified, but if she was actually scared she'd be telling me something. "Do you  _ wanna _ die? Is that it?"

"Daryl, what's your problem?" Henry hollers from a few cells over.

"Quiet!" I snap, not taking my eyes off the girl. "Do you? The people up there just buried a good man. And they are ready to string you up right now. All I gotta do is drag your ass up them steps," I pause, letting my words sink in. "How many in your group?"

"I already told you-"

"Get up!" I snarl, grabbing her arm and yanking her to her feet, turning her around and shoving her against the bars, my hand around her throat. "How many?!"

"Ten!" She cries. "Ten! There were ten of us! I think. We wore skins to blend in. We didn't have names. I mean, I mean, we did! But we didn't use 'em."

"How long you been out around here?"

"I don't know. We moved around with the, with the dead. I mean, the skins made 'em leave us alone. They protected us, so we protected them."

"You got a camp?" I press. "Walls?"

"Walls?" She chuckles nervously, shaking her head and scoffing. "Walls don't keep you safe. Places like this don't make it. They never make it."

She's threatening me. I don't know with what, but she is. She's threatening this place, she's threatening  _ Adie's  _ place, and I don't believe a goddamn word of this horse shit she's spinning.

"That's how it is," she continues. "My mom and me, we saw it happen over and over. I, I barely remember the world before all this. But my mom, she told me how it was changing, how we had to change with it, how we needed the dead and each other to keep safe. We're never alone."

"Why'd your people kill our people?"

But it seems she's done talking, clamming right up. I pull the knife from my belt and hold it right between her eyes so she can look at it. I ain't playing.

"Tell me!"

"We were always gonna kill you, okay?!" She sobs, suddenly terrified again. "It's just what people do now. Everybody still alive's a threat. It's us or them."

"How many people in your group?" I mutter. "The truth!"

"It is the truth!"

"Don't lie to me!"

"My mom!" She cries. "It's just my mom. She's a good person. Please don't go looking for her.  _ Please _ . She, she's just one woman, out there alone."

"You said your people were never alone," I remind her.

"She, she was at the cemetery. She got separated, but just her."

"Liar!" I snarl, taking her by the arm and dragging her from the cell.

"No!" She protests, wrapping her hand around one of the bars, desperately trying to keep me from taking her outside. "No, I told you the truth!"

"I told you what was gonna happen!"

"Daryl!" Henry shouts.

"Shut up!"

"That was everything!" The girl sobs. "Please, please! Let go of me!"

"Daryl, stop!" Henry yells.

"Please, Daryl,  _ please _ , don't kill me, please," she begs. "Please."

_ If she doesn't… you know what you have to do. _

" _ Please, _ " she sobs.

I can't. I can't do it, not yet. As pissed off as I am, as much as I wanna see somebody pay for Jesus,  _ knowing _ what Michonne would say… I can't. We need her alive and I can't do it. I let her go, slamming the cell door closed and moving to Henry's.

"I thought I told you to stay quiet," I growl.

"She's just a girl," he says softly.

"You wanna know what your place is here?" I demand. "It's right where you're at, for as long as it takes you to figure out how to wise your ass up."

"Daryl," he protests as I walk away. "Daryl! Wait!"

I make my way up the steps, nearly colliding with Adie at the top. She puts a finger to her lips, taking the keys from my hand, stowing them in her pocket, and motioning for me to follow her. I almost think I made that last part up until she glances over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow expectantly. I slam the cellar doors shut, locking the padlock on the door, and follow her a few feet to the right. She sinks down into the dirt, leaning against the wall next to the window that belongs to Henry's cell. I take a seat beside her and wait.

"What?" Henry's voice floats out though the bars on his window.

Adie just shakes her head, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth, and I try not to stare at her. I can't believe how much she looks the same, after all this time. It's like this world can't touch her kind of beauty.

"I said thank you," the girl replies, eliciting an eye roll from Adie. "For saving me."

"I had to," Henry says. "Couldn't let him do what he was gonna do to you. I'm Henry."

Silence for a moment or two, and then…

"I'm Lydia."

"Nice to meet you."

-

Adie left after a little bit of small talk between the two kids, leaving me to it. She's got shit to do and it don't include hanging out with me. It ain't until after dark Lydia gets to anything important. She's telling Henry some sob story about a refugee center in Baltimore, where she was with her parents. She's at the part where her dad's starting to crack, thinking there's nothing left. It don't ring all the way true.

"I remember that look in his eye," she murmurs. "Still see it. How cold it is. Was. Why am I even telling you this?"

"Beats the quiet," Henry points out. "Beats being alone."

Adie materializes out of nowhere, as if on cue.

_ But she's been doin' it alone too long. _

She drops down beside me, just close enough I can feel the warmth from her skin, passing me a plate. It's a grilled cheese and it ain’t on fire. I wonder if she made it herself or if she’s just delivering, but I ain’t gonna ask. I nod my thanks and she dips her head, not looking at me, but I can't help but look at her. There's something different about her I can't quite figure out.

"Never been alone. My people traveled in groups with the dead. I miss the sounds… the smell."

"Not gonna lie," Henry blurts. "Walking around in dead people's skins is pretty messed up."

"Thinking this place isn't gonna fall like every other place…" Lydia counters. " _ That's  _ messed up."

"Agree to disagree."

"Your dad's an asshole like mine. All you did was sneak out. Is it even that hard? Are there a lotta guards posted here?"

"Daryl's not my dad. He doesn't even wanna be here."

Adie's eyes flicker to mine and I glare at the ground, ashamed she'd caught me watching her, guilty 'cause the kid ain't all that wrong. When I look back up at her, her head is against the wall and she's looking at the stars, eyes welling with tears, and what the hell do I do?

"He's only doing it as a favor for my mom," Henry continues, digging my hole deeper and deeper all the time.

Adie gets abruptly to her feet, turning and walking away. I should follow her.

"I thought you said your mom died."

"My second mom, I mean. She's tough. Not somebody you wanna mess with. Hey, what happened to your dad?"

"My dad was a stupid man. My mom, though, she kept me alive. Kept me safe. She's a lot like your mom. You don't mess with her, either."

*Adrienne's POV*

He's not here for me. I know that. I knew that when he got here. So why the hell does it hurt so bad to hear it out loud? Why can't I focus on anything else? I'm a fucking mess. That's why, I'm sure, Tara left me here when she left this morning to lead a search for Alden and Luke, who still aren’t back. I wanted to go, but she told me I had to stay put. Because I'm the leader and the leader, apparently, has to stay home and hold down the fort. But that's not how Rick did it and that's not how Jesus did it and that's not the kind of leader I want to be, if I'm gonna be a leader at all.

Still, I stayed.

I don't know what else to do now. Tara should lead. She's better at this than I am. If she was leading, she could stay here and coordinate shit with Daryl and I could go out there and spend some time not thinking about Daryl or looking at Daryl or listening to Daryl. It's funny, in a fucked up sort of way. All I thought about those first months was how any day now he was gonna walk through those gates again and everything would be okay. Now he's here and I can't stand to be around him. It hurts. There's so much I want to ask him, like where did the new scar on his face come from and where did he find his dog. Is he really only here because Carol asked him to be? What happens when Henry leaves? Why did he leave me? Was it easier? And at the same time, I don't want to talk to him at all.

And maybe I'm a masochist or maybe I'm just stupid, but I don't think I can stay away.

*Daryl's POV*

"Your mom sounds nice."

Henry's got some kind of feelings for this girl. She ain't told him nothin' but lies and she's playing him like a fucking fiddle and it don't really feel right to let it keep going, but we need to know. When we decided to keep on, coordinate eavesdropping shifts, Adie acknowledged it sucks, but she made a fair point. The more this girl talks, even if it is bullshit, the more she tells us without even meaning to. The way she keeps switching tenses up and pronouns, the way she backtracks… eventually we'll get to the real truth.

"Yeah," Lydia murmurs. "Is your uh, is your second mom the person who found you?"

"No, it was my, uh… my dad, Ezekiel. Second dad."

"Why isn't he here with your mom?"

"They're the leaders of another community. Where I'm from."

"Is it far? What, what's it called?"

"It's called the Kingdom. It's probably like a day's ride from here."

Oh, god fucking damn it. I get to my feet, yank open the cellar doors, and storm down into the cells.

"Hey," Henry greets. "What's goin' on?"

"Shut up," I mutter, unlocking his cell. "You're gettin' out. C'mon."

Maybe I shouldn't be so rough with him, but I really can't believe  _ Carol's _ kid could be this fucking naive. I shove him across the yard, away from the cells.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" I demand. "Huh? Tellin' her about the Kingdom? What if there's more of her people out there? You got  _ family  _ at the Kingdom."

"I'm sorry," he says defensively. "Okay? I didn't think that it would… wait, you were listening?"

"Yeah, of course we were," I hiss. "Me, Adie, Enid, and a few of the others, we've been switchin' off, seein' what she'd say to you."

"You were using me."

"Yeah. And it was workin', too."

"She's a good person who got messed up out there. And she's right about you, you know that? You're an asshole."

I am an asshole. I never pretended otherwise and there are some people who wouldn't be alive if I  _ wasn't _ an asshole. I don't give a shit what he calls me.

"You want answers, get 'em yourself," he huffs, stalking off.

I watch him for a moment, watch as he stomps right past Adie, jerking away from her when she reaches for him. She glances over at me, questioning, but don't come over here. Guess it's on me, then. I'll get answers, like I fucking said I was gonna.

*Adrienne's POV*

Henry won't talk to me. He's pissed and I get it, I do, but… he wants to see good in everyone, he doesn't see how easy it is to lose the people you love trusting the wrong person with the right information. We had to listen and I'm not sorry, especially because Tara's group came back without our people. They found the horses, though. Sliced up and half eaten. We don't know who this girl is or where her people are and Alden is still out there. Luke, whom I haven't met yet, but he's under  _ my  _ care now and that makes him my responsibility.

Yumiko wants to go back out there until they find our people, she wanted to stay out today. Tara made the call, which is just further proof she should be leading this place because if it had been me out there we'd still be out there. Tara did what's best for the majority. I don't think I could have. I know what I can do, though. I can get that girl to talk. Threats aren't working. Violence isn't working. Kindness was, though. That's how Henry got through to her. That's how we'll do it. At least, that's what I think until I see Daryl headed towards the cellar again, jaw set and shoulders tense. He's angry.

"Daryl."

He wheels around, eyeing me questioningly.

"I, uh…" I trail off. "I don't think you're gonna scream it out of her."

"I ain't."

He offers no further explanation, whirling back around and stomping on his way.

"Daryl, wait," I snap, stopping him in his tracks.

He doesn't bother turning around this time and  _ fuck, _ that hurts. He really doesn't want to be here. It doesn't fucking matter what he wants, though, because he  _ is _ here and this is my place and he's gonna listen to me whether, he wants to or not. He's the one who left me, he doesn't get to be mad. I square my shoulders and march in front of him.

"Here," I mutter, thrusting the small pill bottle I'd gotten from Enid into his hand. "Pain meds. She keeps pullin' on her ear like it hurts. Give 'em to her."

I don't bother to wait for a response, I just walk away. He won't be here forever. He's gonna leave when Henry does and I'm gonna pretend he never came back at all because that's the only way I'll get through him leaving again. I'm gonna hold on to the rage because if I can do that, if I can stay angry… maybe this time it won't hurt when he disappears.

*Daryl's POV*

I don't wanna waste Hilltop's meds on this girl, but Adie ain't giving me a choice, apparently. It wasn't a request, it was an order. She might as well have just pissed on the ground where I'm standing, 'cause that's what that was. She's making damn sure I know this is her place and I'm under her authority until I leave. But I don't fucking  _ want  _ to leave. Not now. Not without her, at least. And even if I could tell her that, it don't matter 'cause we ain't had time to talk about anything at all, and even if we  _ had, _ she ain't gonna wanna hear it anyway. I figured out what's different about her.

She don't smile when she looks at me like she used to.

I shake my head, stupidly hoping I can just shake her out of my brain like I've been doing all these years, and head down to the cells. Lydia's story don't sound like a lie all together, but it don't sound like the whole truth neither. I've been thinking about all that shit about her dad being an asshole and her mom saving her and some of the shit out of her mouth like hunger being a gift… sounds a lot like how I thought I was supposed to feel when Merle 'saved' me from our asshole dad.

When I show up outside her cell, she don't scurry into the corner like the first time. She seems resigned to whatever's gonna happen to her. I sigh, sinking into the chair that used to be inside her cell but ain't now, eyeing her though the bars.

"You finally come to kill me?"

I reach into my vest and pull out the bottle of pills from Adie, shaking 'em around.

"It's for your ear," I explain. "You keep pullin' on it like it hurts."

I leave the offer hanging in the air, still holding the bottle up, but she just turns her face away.

"No?" I question, tucking the bottle back into my vest. "I don't give a shit. It's up to you. Two of ours went missin'. We found their horses, though. Half skinned, half eaten. You know anything about that?"

"How could I?" She demands. "I've been here."

"What would your mom do if she crossed some of our people? Would she kill 'em?"

"She would if she had to."

She picks back up where her story left off with Henry, talking about how some dumbass at the shelter in Baltimore was risking their lives, their safety, and how her mom, the saint, killed him to shut him up. How her dad the asshole scooped her up in his arms and sang her a song about Lydia, the tattooed lady.

"He used to sing that to me when I was scared," she murmurs. "Which was a lot back then."

"How old were you?"

"Five…" she shakes her head. "Six. Who knows?"

Something about the brokenness in her voice yanks me out of this cellar and transports me back in time to a guard tower in the prison. Must be eight, ten years ago now. Adie wasn't on watch that night, but I was and she couldn't sleep so she was with me. It was cold, only a few weeks after we stopped looking for The Governor.

_ I'm scared. _

_ If he was out there, we would've found 'im. _

_ I know. _

_ He's gone, Adie. _

_ Maybe. _

__ She was quiet for a while after that, dragging her knife along a seam in the platform. I don't know what the hell possessed me, just some morbid curiosity or maybe just a need to fuel the rage I still felt back then, but I asked her.

_ How old were you? _

She didn't need me to clarify.

_ Seven or eight, I think. I don't really remember a time when… my therapist, she thought seven or eight. Can we, um... can we talk about somethin’ else? Please? _

I didn't know what to say to that and felt kinda sick, like I was gonna puke on her. I wanted to tell her how strong I thought she'd have to be, to go through something like that and come out the other side how she was. How she still is.

"Your mom…" I trail off. "Your mom did what she had to do."

Lydia just nods like she ain't sure she agrees but she feels like she's supposed to, then pulls at her ear again. I pull the pill bottle back out, whistling to get her attention, and toss it between the bars. It clatters to the floor just in front of her and she rolls it backwards with her heel, this time accepting the help.

"Doesn't have to be like that, though," I tell her. "There's a lotta good people here. They'll help you if you help them."

"Can I have some water?" She questions, popping the cap off the bottle and dumping the pills into her palm.

I rise from my seat and turn to the water bucket, lifting the ladle and turning back to find her standing at the door.

"What, you think I'm gonna hit you with it or somethin'?" She jokes weakly when I refuse to let her take it from my hand, opting instead to slip it between two of the bars on the door.

I know she's planning some bullshit. She leans in like she's gonna take a drink from the ladle, then grabs hold of my arm last minute. I fling the ladle to the floor, grabbing hold of her hand and yanking it through the bars. She manages to scratch my face before I get her sleeve pulled up, exposing the bruises on her forearm. I fucking knew it. She spits at me and I let her go, watching her hurl the empty pill bottle to the ground and back herself into the corner, glaring at me. Yeah. I know all about this. I didn't want nobody looking at me neither.

I leave her to it, letting her stew for a little while I find what I'm looking for, and when I come back, pulling the leaves off the thin branch in my hands, she's still got that same look on her face. She thinks she looks mean and mean looks tough, but she's really just a scared kid. And it ain't her dad she's scared of.

"You know," I tell her conversationally. "Some dads would come up with any excuse… just to beat the shit outta their kids. Maybe they're drunk. Maybe they can't get drunk. Belts are good," I hold up the branch. "But these assholes, they ain't picky. They'll use whatever's layin' around. But a good switch from a birch tree… that'll work."

She's staring at the switch and she's trying to hide it, but I can see it. She's afraid and she's afraid of  _ me  _ and I hate that. I ain't gonna hit her, but I needed her to think I would.

"Your dad sounds a lot like one of those dads," I continue. "Except the part where he sang to you when you were scared. Those dads… they  _ like _ it when you're scared. Thing is… that's the only part of your story that didn't sound like bullshit. Now, you knew exactly what this was when I walked down here. And those bruises on your arm, they come from a beating. So let me ask you, if your dad's dead, who gave 'em to you?"

"My mom."

"Where is she?"

"Be glad you don't know," she mutters.

"Where is she?" I repeat. "Where's your camp? Why are you protectin' her? Huh? You're  _ safer _ here."

"This place isn't real," she spits. "The world changed, and… you're all acting like it's gonna change back. My mom walks 'cause that's what the dead do. It's  _ their _ world and we have to live in it. And what my mom does…" she pulls her sleeve up, exposing the marks. "She does for a  _ reason. _ "

"Your mom  _ beats _ you because she loves you?" I demand. "That's  _ bullshit. _ "

"No, it isn't. When you stay soft, people die."

She launches into how she couldn't sleep that night in Baltimore, how she went to check on that guy her mother killed. He turned and he was gonna get her, but her dad saved her. Got bit and died. And all I can think is how she was just a kid, barely even starting out in the world, and all this time… all this time she thought her dad was her fault. That her mother is a good person trying to protect her. It's a lot like when mom died and Merle made me feel like I only had him.

"You were just a little girl," I point out softly. "It wasn't your fault."

"I was stupid," she spits. "I deserved to die. But my dad was soft, and now he's the one that's dead."

"What was he supposed to do?" I question. "Just watch his little girl get bit?"

"When you can't bend, you break," she announces. "He broke."

"That's not true. We're makin' it better. We're buildin' it back up again, changin' it back."

"Yeah?" She simpers. "You don't belong with these people. Maybe you used to, but not anymore. You're hard, they're  _ soft. _ "

I remember being like her. I could see people's insecurities a mile away, too. I knew which buttons to push, what bullshit to say to make 'em leave me alone. Still, hearing it out loud pisses me off. Maybe I don't belong here anymore, but it ain't 'cause they're soft, not all of 'em, not Adie. That's why this place is still here. Because of the soft ones. They need protecting and people like Adie and Maggie and Jesus and Tara stepped up to do that.

But they're still killers.

"You don't know shit about me," I growl.

"So tell me."

Nah. I'm done. I'm done trying to get through to this girl. You can't help people who don't want it.

"Hey!" She protests as I walk away. "I told you what happened to me. Tell me what happened to you. Hey! Tell me!"

I ain't telling her shit. I stomp up the stairs and burst through the doors only to find Henry sitting just outside. He was listening. Eye for an eye, I guess.

"You could've just asked me to help," he says, getting up and following me around the corner. "Hey! Daryl! Where are you going?"

He stops me just as we reach the steps of Barrington House. I don't wanna go in there, but I gotta tell Tara this girl's useless to us. She can tell Adie.

"Girl's too messed up," I tell him, climbing up the front steps. "She's a waste of time. She's Adie's problem."

"What's gonna happen to her?"

I stop again 'cause I ain't sure how to answer that. If Adie decides she's a threat, she'll put her down. She ain't soft. She'll do what it takes to protect her people and part of me doesn't give a fuck, but… I remember what it was like. I was just as fucked up and confused as she was and it took a long time and a lot of good people to save me. Carol, Adie, Rick, Beth... the list goes on and on. This girl don't have anybody.

"Did someone used to beat you up, too?" Henry demands, and I turn to face him. "Once… I heard my dad ask my mom why she kept her hair so short. She said when it was long, her first husband would grab it when she tried to get away. He would pull it and slam her against the wall, so one day… she just cut it all off so he couldn't. And I guess it took her this long to feel safe again," he pauses, gathering himself, like he knows I could kick his ass and ain't gonna, then climbs up the steps to stand beside me. "Sometimes… you act like the type of guy who slams people against walls, but I don't think that's it. I don't, because I heard what happened to Aunt Adie's dad. How she killed him, and I don't think she'd marry a guy like that.”

It's like my gut just turned hollow, hearing this kid tell me shit like he knows shit  _ about  _ shit, and I can't think of anything to say or threaten him with 'cause he knows I ain't gonna do nothin' anyway.

"You shouldn't listen to people talk," I tell him eventually.

"Look, I know Lydia's people are bad," he insists. "But that doesn't mean she's bad at all. She's just scared. You can show her there's nothing to be afraid of. You can do that. And only you."

"No," I shake my head. "Not just me."

I turn and head into the house, 'cause the truth is… it was never just me, ever. It was all those people back in the beginning of this mess taking me in, showing me what it really meant to be a family, how to love each other unconditionally and fight for that and I was almost always afraid. I left the most important person in the world to me 'cause I was afraid and I think I lost her, which is what I was trying to do and I don't fucking know why and I don't know how to fix it or if I can at all.


	9. Wrong Answer

**Chapter 9**

I make my way through the foyer and follow Tara's and Adie's voices up the stairs. It surprises me to see Dog perched up on the couch beside Adie. Maybe I don't belong, but he seems to be fitting in just fine. Adie's got a litany of papers spread out on the coffee table in front of her, pen cap between her teeth, scribbling frantically away in that big loopy handwriting that looks like it belongs to someone who looks like she does.

"All of 'em?" She's asking. "Or just Yumiko?"

"All four of 'em," Tara huffs. "Grant saw them leave."

"I'm not sendin' our people out after dark with those skin freaks roamin' around god only knows where," Adie seethes around the cap. "We'll send a team out first thing in the mornin'."

"Okay," Tara concedes.

Adie finishes whatever the hell she’s writing with a flourish, capping her pen and tossing it aside.

"Is there anything else I need to take care of tonight?” she demands. “Or can I be done?"

"Adie…" Tara sighs, then catches sight of me. "Hey."

"Hey," I echo, a little hurt when Dog don't come running.

He's wagging his tail, looking at me like he's just thrilled right where he's at. I can't help but feel like he's taking sides, which is ridiculous. Adie don't even look up.

*Adrienne's POV*

"I'm gon' give her another night."

Daryl's sitting on the other end of the couch, he and Tara talking about how the girl still hasn't given us jack shit we can use. We don't know where her people are and ours are missing and the people here aren't happy she's still around. We're feeding her, sheltering her, and her people killed Jesus. They want justice. I can tell by the way he's talking about her, though, Daryl doesn't want to kill her, and I feel guiltier because part of me still thinks we should. Her mom sounds like a monster and this girl was barely out of preschool when the world fell apart and I feel bad for her, I really do. But if she doesn't want our help, if she keeps fighting it… she's a liability. Maybe I'm a monster, too.

"It's your call, Adie," Tara says softly.

"I wish y'all would quit sayin' that," I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. "I… I don't know what the hell to do with her. Keep her in the cell for the rest of her life? What if her people show up? What if they bring a herd with 'em?"

"What if they don't?" Daryl questions softly, forcing my eyes to his.

I just stare at him for a minute. He looks older. There's more grey in his beard, new lines in his face. He looks like how you'd expect one to look after spending six years in the woods. Tired. My eyes wander his face, landing on his lips, and  _ god,  _ I want to kiss him. No, I don't. I do. Fuck, I've been staring too long. I clear my throat, face flushing, and tear my eyes from him.

"Even," I start, taking a breath. "Even if they don't, what if we keep her around, make her a part of things here… then one day she gets out, brings her people here? Same problem."

"So you're just gon' execute her?" Daryl demands.

"I don't see another option, Daryl," I spit, glaring at him.

"Guys."

Tara's trying to get our attention, but I'm suddenly so fucking pissed at the man in front of me I can't see straight. What the hell right does he think he's got, demanding explanations from me like I owe him a damn thing? He's glaring right back at me, looking at me like I'm some kind of horrible bitch for wanting to protect the people he abandoned. It’s damn near identical to the look on Dale’s face years ago when we decided we were gonna put Randall down. Daryl was on my side back then.

"You'd rather stick a knife in that girl's skull 'cause it's the easy option, not the only one," he hisses.

"Guys?"

" _Easy?_ " I snap, leaping to my feet. "You think this is _easy?_ I'm tryin' to keep _my_ people safe! Maybe if you hadn't-"

"Guys!" Tara roars, pointing out the window across from us.

"What?" I demand, stalking over to the window.

Oh, you're fucking  _ shitting  _ me.

*Daryl's POV*

"Do you think you could  _ move over? _ " Adie whispers, injecting as much venom into her voice as she can without giving us away.

I roll my eyes, shifting my weight and shuffling to one side.

"Better, princess?"

We're in the gardening shed. It ain't really a shed, there's no door on it. The front is open, but there's shelves and big water drums and plenty of shadows to keep ourselves hidden. Henry decided to stage a little jailbreak, take Lydia on a tour. If Adie had her way, she'd have marched right out here and… well, I dunno exactly, but best case scenario the girl would've ended up back in that cell. More likely she'd have ended up with a knife in the base of her skull. I ain't sure why Adie gave in and decided to hide out here and listen like I wanted, except maybe she's waiting to tell me she told me so.

"Don't call me that."

"Quit actin' like one."

"I'm not actin' any kinda way!"

"Shh."

I can feel the rage rolling off of her and I know if I was looking she'd have her mouth all twisted to one side, those eyes ablaze, her hands curled into fists. But she stays quiet.

"That is the, uh… the medical trailer," Henry's saying. "Enid's a really good doctor."

"You have a doctor?" Lydia questions disbelievingly, following Henry to one of the picnic tables dotting the yard.

"Yeah," he tells her. "Doctor, blacksmith, cobbler… you name it, we got it."

"How long has this been?"

"Oh, it's been built up for over six years now."

"Daryl," Adie murmurs, alarm lacing her voice.

There's a hammer on the table top. Henry can't see it 'cause Lydia's got her back to the table, fingers dangerously close to curling around that hammer. Adie moves to step out of hiding, but I ain't ready to give up yet. I snatch her wrist, eyeing her imploringly. She looks like she wants to kick my ass across the yard, ripping her arm from my grasp. But she stays, body coiled like a spring, ready to launch herself from this shed the second that hammer leaves the table.

"Thing is," Henry continues. "It's only gonna keep growing. My Aunt Adie, she runs this place."

"Places like this aren't supposed to exist," Lydia says, shaking her head. "My mom said they couldn't. That's why they had to, that's why we-"

She don't finish her sentence. There's a baby crying and she’s losing her shit. Her hands have abandoned the hammer entirely to clutch at her own head like she's afraid it's gonna explode if she don't hold it together. Adie's staring at her now with this weird expression on her face like she's trying to figure out why a stranger looks familiar. She ain't all wound up like she was, neither, and I wonder what she's seeing.

"Lydia, what's wrong?" Henry questions.

"Put me back in the cell."

Adie's eyes flicker to mine, then back out into the yard where Henry is leading the girl right back to the cellar. We can hear the cell door swing shut a few moments later, the sound of a chain clinking against metal, then hushed voices. Henry don't come back out.

*Adrienne's POV*

"What were you gonna say?" Daryl demands, trailing after me as I walk towards the house. "Before, with Tara. Maybe if I hadn't what?"

I freeze. I'm so fucking confused. I keep thinking about that dream where he was there and it was finally really okay again, thinking about about how  _ whole  _ I felt before I realized it was just a dream. I was so sure he was gonna love me forever and I thought we could do anything together because it was  _ us _ and I was wrong. I hate being around him like this, not sure how long he'll be here. Not sure if I want him to hold me and make me believe in him again or if I want him to just disappear.

"Adie?"

"Maybe," I murmur, turning to face him. "Maybe if you hadn't left, you'd understand why."

"You think I don't?" He questions, stricken. "I know you're jus' tryin' to keep these people safe. I get it. But-"

"Why are you here, Daryl?" I blurt.

He just looks at me, face turning stony. I'm not gonna take it back, though. I need to hear him say it. I need to hear it so I can sink my teeth into the rage and hold onto it so when he leaves it might hurt just a little less.

"Carol asked me to be."

"Did…" my voice cracks and I hate myself for it. "Did you know I was still here?"

"I always knew where you were, Adrienne," he says softly, something like pain flashing in his eyes.

Something breaks in me and everything comes rushing to the surface, all the anger and the sadness the fucking  _ hurt _ I thought I'd let go of.

"Right," I mutter bitterly, turning to leave him. "So you could make sure you'd never run into me when you were tradin' with Jesus. I forgot."

"It ain't like that!" He snaps, grabbing me by the elbow and wheeling me around to face him.

"Really?" I demand, jerking away from his touch. "How is it then, Daryl? 'Cause that's sure as  _ fuck  _ what it sounded like to me."

"I didn't want you to know I's around 'cause I couldn't come back."

"That's horse shit," I spit. "You could've come back. You could've come back any time you wanted to and you  _ didn't! _ "

"I never found him, Adie!" He snarls. "Out there lookin' every single day and I never found nothin'! Like he wasn't even there and you…"

"I what?" I demand.

"You don't get it."

"I don't get what?" I holler, not giving a single shit if we wake the whole colony. "Huh? What is it I'm too damn stupid to  _ get? _ Make sure to say it slow so my tiny,  _ tiny _ brain can-"

"I needed to find him! Somethin'! Even just a _piece_ of him, proof-"

"I _saw_ that bridge collapse, Daryl!" I explode, tears spilling down my face. "I was there! You didn't find anything 'cause there wasn't anything _left_ to find!"

His eyes lock on mine like he can't believe I just said something so cruel, and I almost can't believe it either, but it's the truth. Rick is  _ gone.  _ Whatever was left of his body was washed out into the ocean. The last thing I ever did was  _ lie _ to him and I had to make peace with that on my own and I still haven't quite figured out how to forgive myself.

"There would've been  _ somethin', _ " he mutters coldly.

"If there was somethin', you'd've found it in six days, not six  _ years, _ " I point out quietly, sniffling. "I only knew you were even alive 'cause Carol was  _ allowed  _ to tell me that much. I didn't know where you were, I just… I waited, Daryl, every day for  _ months, _ thinkin' any day would be the day I'd see you again and it  _ never _ happened. I knew you had to look. I wouldn't've stopped you."

His lip is trembling and he's not looking at me and even though I'm so fucking angry my bones are shaking, I want to hold him with everything in me. But he still feels so far away, like my arms aren't quite long enough to reach him, like if I tried to cross the distance between us my legs would give out before I even got close.

"I lost him, too, Daryl," I spit, turning my face to the stars, foolishly hoping it'll keep more tears from leaking out. "Only I lost  _ you  _ the same day and that… it was worse 'cause you  _ chose  _ it. And then Maggie… and, and Michonne stopped comin' around and Carol's miles away and I hardly see her and I was-" I choke on a sob, angrily dragging the backs of my hands over my eyes. "I was  _ alone. _ I had to figure out a way to keep goin' without you, knowin' you could come back if you wanted to and knowin' you  _ didn't  _ want to ‘cause you never… you never came back for me.”

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

I look at him and he's looking at the ground, tears glistening on his cheeks, and I don't know how we're ever gonna be okay again. I thought I was. I thought I was finally okay, but then he came back in a dream and then he came back for real and now I have to watch him leave all over again and I can't do it again, I _can't._ But I'm not ready to forgive him. So this time, I walk away.

*Daryl's POV*

She hates me. She hates me and I deserve it for what I did to her. I can't fix it and the only thing I can think to do is keep busy and stay out of her way as much as I can and still keep my promise to Carol, so the next morning I grab breakfast for Lydia and head down to her cell. Henry's still down here and I kinda expected he would be, but I didn't expect the redhead leaning against the wall next to him. She don't say nothin', just looks up for half a second and then her eyes drop right back down to the floor. So much for staying out of her way.

"She didn't want to be alone," Henry rushes, scrambling to his feet, mistaking my silence for annoyance at finding him here.

"My ear hurts," Lydia murmurs. "Everything hurts. You still have those pills?"

I set her tray down on the chair outside her cell, crossing to the water bucket and retrieving the ladle. This time I let her hold it herself. She ain't gonna try nothin'. She lifts it to her lips, draining the water in no time, then hands it back to me through the bars without a fuss.

"I'll get you more pills," Adie says softly, eyeing the girl with something like sympathy. "But I need to know-"

"My mom's not comin' for me," Lydia blurts, eyes flickering between my face and Adie's. "None of 'em are."

"Why?" Adie questions, crouching down in front of the cell so she's eye level with the girl on the floor. "Why are you so sure?"

"If someone dies or gets taken or whatever," Lydia explains. "They move on. Like they never existed. That's how it's always been. They don't come into contact with big groups unless they don't have another choice. That's why I… I was trying to find out everything I could about you. 'Cause then when I escaped, I'd have somethin' to give 'em. A reason for 'em to take me back."

"You're her  _ daughter, _ " Henry says, affronted. "Does that not matter?"

"Not always, Henry," Adie says quietly. "Some parents… they're not all like yours."

"What about our missin' people?" I question.

"If my mom found 'em…" Lydia murmurs, lifting her eyes to mine. "I can't think of a reason she'd keep 'em alive. Sorry."

"She got a camp somewhere?"

"Near the guard bridge. Maybe a mile east. But we don't… they don't stay in one place for long."

"The story about your family…" Henry blurts. "Was any of it true?"

"I thought all of it was," Lydia mutters. "I needed it to be. But I had it all mixed up. It was a lie, but the lie wasn't mine. My mom… she told it to me…" she shakes her head, lip curling in disgust. "Over and over, for years."

She's got tears in her eyes and for a second I don't think she's gonna be able to keep talking, but Adie reaches through the bars, slow like she used to reach for me when I didn't know I needed to be touched, and takes the girl's hand in hers.

"But…" Lydia whispers.

She's looking Adie right in the eyes now like she knows she can tell her anything, like she's safe. I remember the first time I felt like that and every time after. Like I could tell Adie anything, even if I was afraid, and now I can't remember why I didn't tell her after the bridge how fucking scared I was, why I didn't let her… I don't know. Save me, I guess.

"Deep down, I knew," Lydia continues, forcing my attention back where it needs to be. "I knew what she was, and… I knew what she did."

The girl clings tight to Adie's hand, remembering that night like it was, not like her mother told her. How her mom wanted to leave their friends to die, how her dad didn't want to, how he wasn't gonna let her mom take her.

"He was against the wall…" she whimpers, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Scared. And my mom was there. Had that cold look in her eye. Then she… she got her knife," she sobs, shaking her head, squeezing Adie's hand so tight they're both trembling. "And then she-"

"It's okay," I cut her off. "It's okay. We've heard enough."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you," Lydia sniffles, releasing Adie's hand. "I'm sorry I wasted your time."

"You didn't."

I'm surprised to hear the words in stereo, falling from Adie's mouth the same time I say 'em. I get to my feet and leave, stomping up the steps to go get the girl them pills. Adie's on my heels and Henry's on hers and now I'm thinking maybe I should've stayed with Lydia.

"So this whole time," Henry seethes, something in his tone stopping me in my tracks.

Not Adie, though. She keeps moving, right past me and up to the watchpost where Tara is standing with Yumiko. Guess they made it back, after all. Only I don't see nobody else, just Yumiko and Magna. Kelly and Connie ain't here. Adie's gonna be pissed.

"Lydia's mom made her think it was  _ her _ fault her dad died?" Henry demands. "Why would a mom do that to a kid?"

"Some people ain't meant to be parents," I mutter.

"So what happens now? Can she stay here with us?"

That ain't my call. It's Adie's. But the way she was looking at Lydia today, I'm thinking maybe the girl can stay.

"We'll see," I hedge. "Should get her some fresh clothes. I’m gon’ talk to Tara 'n your aunt, see about that camp."

I turn to follow Adie up to that post, not particularly wanting to ask her for nothin', but this is her place.

"Hey, Daryl?"

I turn back, eyeing him questioningly.

"I'm glad you and my mom are friends," he says earnestly. "And Aunt Adie, she's glad you're back."

He wheels around, practically sprinting back to that cellar, and I'm left wondering what the hell he sees in Adie that makes him think that.

'Cause I sure as hell don't.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Welcome back," I spit sarcastically, Yumiko whirling in surprise when I appear behind her on the watch platform.

"I should've-"

I'm sure she had something riveting to say, but she's interrupted.

"Open the gate!" Kal hollers.

Oscar's group is back, Connie and Kelly in tow. The look on Yumiko's face might be funny if she hadn't deliberately gone against orders. 

"Surprised?" I demand. "That 'cause you were caught or 'cause we gave a shit enough to send a team out after your asses?"

"Look, we were just-"

"I know what you were doin'," I sigh, rubbing my temples wearily. "I get it. I don't wanna hide behind a wall with my people out there, either, which _includes_ y'all now. But we have to think about _everybody_ here, not just the ones out there. When Tara gives you an order, you treat it as if it came directly from me or you can come directly _to_ me and dispute it, but you cannot just leave. If you all don't wanna be here, fine, we'll send you on your way no problem, godspeed, but if that's not the case then you clear it with me before stepping foot out those gates."

Yumiko looks genuinely sorry until we see them. People with walker faces, marching up to our gates. Our people haven't all made it inside yet and Connie's trailing just far enough behind, she's not gonna make it in time.

"Oh, my god," Yumiko breathes.

Connie sees them before they see her, diving into the garden and hiding among the stalks of corn. It's gonna have to be enough.

"Get Daryl," I murmur, my blood running cold.

*Daryl's POV*

"Hey!" Tara's waving at me from the platform. "Daryl!"

Something's up. Magna and Kelly are hurtling towards the guard post. Adie's got her arm raised up, hand curled into a fist, which must be some kind of signal 'cause soon as Bertie sees it she's shepherding the kids inside. I hurl myself up the steps, coming to a screeching halt beside Adie, following her gaze to the woman in the middle of a group of people dressed as the dead. She's the only one without a mask. Lydia's mother.

"I am Alpha," she announces. "And we only want one thing from you. My daughter."

"I'm only gonna say this one time, I hope you’re listenin’," Adie hollers, squaring her shoulders. "If you breach that fence, we will not hesitate to defend ourselves and your people will die two steps from where they stand."

"I show you my face because we mean you no harm," Alpha counters. "I just want my daughter. I know you have her."

"You should turn around," I suggest. "Leave now 'n no one gets hurt."

"Wrong answer," Alpha says, raising her hand.

There are more of them. A lot more, marching into our sight from behind the cornfield. We don't have the ammo to take 'em all, or the people, and Connie could get caught in the crossfire if they figure out she's out there.

"They don't see her," Kelly murmurs. "Least not yet."

"They're not gonna," Adie mutters, eyes locked on Alpha's.

She thinks this is gonna end quick and I can tell she's thinking of making the trade. I know she has to at least consider it, trying to keep her people safe, but it ain't right and she knows it.

"That girl told us what her mom does to her," I murmur, hoping I can reach Adie before she decides. "We ain't sendin' her back to that."

"She has Alden and Luke," she says quietly. "Or she wouldn't've come, wouldn't risk it… she's got numbers, but we have more and none of hers are armed."

"Pissing her off could get them killed," Tara points out.

"Did you kill our friends?" Magna demands. "We found their horses."

"No," Alpha says. "Which one of you leads these people?"

Panic floods my body, like every cell in me is revolting. Alpha is evil, there's no doubt in my mind, and if she finds out Adie's the leader, if Adie gives herself away… I can't let her, so when she moves to raise her hand, I snatch it, holding it down out of sight.

"What the hell's it matter?" I snarl.

Adie shifts beside me, like she's gonna rip her hand from mine and out herself, and I lock eyes with her, pleading. I can't tell what she's thinking, but before she can say anything or make another move, Alpha's run out of patience and I can breathe again.

"Then I'll just address all of you," she announces. "Your people crossed into our land. There will be no conflict. Your people killed our people. There will be no conflict. I'm done talkin'. Bring me my daughter, or there  _ will  _ be conflict."

"No one touches the girl," I growl, releasing Adie's hand and making my way down the steps.

Conflict, my ass.

"Daryl!" Adie hisses, hurling herself down the steps after me.

"Does she have Alden and Luke?" Enid asks frantically the moment my feet hit the ground.

"I don't know," I mutter, continuing my way towards the gate.

"What does she want?" Henry questions, but he knows. "No, Daryl, we… we can't do that."

"She ain't gettin' her," I assure him.

"Then what're you doing?" He demands.

"She's done talkin'," I come to a stop just inside the gate, motioning for the guard to open up. "I'm not. Come on."

"Daryl, no!" Adie grabs my hand, planting herself in front of me. "Don't go. Okay? This isn't on you, this is my-"

"You ain't goin' out there."

"Daryl-"

"You ain't!" I snap. "It can't be you, I ain't gon' let it be you."

Before she can argue, and I know she wants to, I stalk through the gates, storming my way down to meet the evil bitch and her haunted house extras at the fence. Lydia's right about that cold look. Alpha don't have nothin' human in her eyes at all.

"You can't have her," I growl. "Now, if it's a fight you're lookin' for, we got enough firepower to light you up. Right here and now."

I lose my train of thought when a baby coos, just a tiny noise, and my eyes dart towards the sound. One of these people's got a baby, a real tiny one, wrapped in a sling across her front. They walked right up to our gates knowing we're dangerous, that we killed several of theirs, and they got a  _ baby  _ with 'em. I let my eyes slide back to Alpha's and she's got this smirk like she won something.

"You brought a baby out here?" I demand.

"We're animals," she says placidly. "Animals live out here. Animals have babies. So we have babies out here. Now, what were you sayin'? Lightin' us all up?"

Something else catches my eye just over her shoulders, two of her men shoving two of the others along in front of them. Oh, Jesus. Adie’s right.

"You seem to want conflict," Alpha continues conversationally. "I don't. So I'm proposin' a trade."

She turns sideways, offering me a full view as her men rip the masks off Alden and Luke. They're gagged, hands bound at their backs, and now they got knives to their throats.

I ain't got a choice no more.

"I wanted to kill them," Alpha announces, turning back to face me. "But I want my daughter more. One of mine, two of yours. It's a good trade, which is why you're gonna take it. Now… bring me my daughter."


	10. There Will Be No Conflict

**Chapter 10**

It ain't a choice, but that don't stop something sick rolling around in my guts at what we're about to do.

"Daryl!" Enid calls, falling into step with me on my way to the cellar. "What'd she say? Are they okay?"

"Yeah, they will be. We gotta hand back the girl," I mutter, gaze flickering to Tammy Rose as she falls into step on my other side. "Where's Henry?"

"I dunno," she says. "Why?"

"He's gonna wanna say goodbye."

"Daryl," Magna calls, walking towards me from the cellar. "Tara and Yumiko went to get Lydia."

"What?" I demand.

"Adrienne decided while you were out there," she informs me. "When she saw Luke and Alden."

"Hey!" Yumiko's joining the party now, her and Tara, hurtling towards us from the cellar. "She's gone."

"Hell you mean she's gone?" I snap.

"Her door was open," Tara says breathlessly. "Key was in the lock. Daryl, you know we have to do this. Look, you guys might not be on the best terms, but you know Adie wouldn't do this if there was any other way."

I know. I do. It just still feels wrong.

"All right," I concede. "Split up. Find Henry, we find the girl."

Everyone scatters in different directions to search but I got a faster way. I head into Earl and Tammy's trailer. Henry's staying with 'em. I pluck a t-shirt from his suitcase and tear back outside, whistling for the pup.

"Dog!"

He comes careening down the steps of the watchpost. Should've known he was with Adie. She ain't left that platform, not since following me earlier, hasn't taken her eyes off Alpha.

"Come on," I murmur, holding the t-shirt low for Dog's nose. "Right here, right here. Smell."

*Adrienne's POV*

They brought a baby. They brought a baby out here knowing damn well we can fight. What kind of people are these? One evil woman, I get. Plenty of evil people in the world, but a whole goddamn group of them willing to bring a baby to a slaughter? The baby is hungry, wailing despite the mother's desperate attempts to soothe it, the cries drawing the herd they'd also brought with them. A look and a shrug from Alpha and the mother of the screaming infant removes the sling from her shoulders and lays her baby on the ground.

"Hey!" Alden shrieks as best he can around his gag, horrified. "The baby!"

Alpha's talking to him, whispering something I can't hear, but no one makes a move to save the child and I can't believe a group of people could be this monstrous, even ones who choose to wear the faces of the dead. I would've done anything to keep my baby. I can't just watch while these people just stand by and let this happen. I won't.

"Make as much noise as you can," I order Kelly, Marcus, Oscar, anybody left in earshot, hurling myself down from the post. "Draw 'em away!"

*Daryl's POV*

Dog leads me around to the back of the trailers, barking when the trail ends at a particular spot on the wall.

"Good boy, good boy."

I ain't sure how the hell a couple kids managed to climb over the wall quick enough no one saw it, there ain't nothin' here to boost 'em but a couple wooden crates holding firewood. Must've been enough, though, and I'm gonna have to climb after 'em. I'm too old for this shit. Still, I climb up onto the sturdier looking crate, and then I realize… it's hollow, it's a false top.

"Shit," I hiss, lifting the lid to find a tunnel running beneath the wall and ending god knows where.

"They snuck out?" Enid demands breathlessly, she and one of the Hilltop teens, Addy, coming to a halt beside me.

"Yeah," I mutter. "Go tell the others. I can track 'em."

"You don't have to," Addy blurts. "I know where he probably took her."

She don't get to elaborate before there's some kind of fuss from the front of the colony. People yelling, banging on things, and I swear I can  _ feel _ Adie doing something stupid. Or brave. Or stupid.

"Go see what that is," I order, turning from the girls to drop down into the tunnel.

"I can get Henry and Lydia," Enid volunteers.

"No, it's my problem, I got it."

"And Alden's  _ mine, _ " she insists. "Look, this is how we get him back. Look, I, I've known Henry since he was a kid. He… likes me, I can talk to him."

I'm torn. Lydia's my responsibility and so is Henry, but Adie… the noise ain't stopping, it's just getting louder, and I need to see what it is, I need to see her.

"Go," I concede, taking off with Dog in tow. "Come on, boy!"

*Adrienne's POV*

Turns out, I'm not the only one who couldn't watch a baby get torn to pieces. The moment I step outside the gate, Connie hurtles out from her hiding spot in the corn, slingshot in hand. Alpha's eyes flicker between the two of us, almost amused. Like it's a game. Connie manages to slingshot one walker down and kick a couple others over like rotted bowling pins, snatching the baby up from the ground only to find herself stuck. There's more walkers and the baby is still crying, drawing the dead right to her. But they're not the real threat. Two of Alpha's people are approaching. With knives.

Alpha's staring at me expectantly and then I realize… this is a game to her. It's entertainment. She's not gonna kill me. She's sure as hell not gonna catch me. And so I run. I run right past Alden and Luke, right past Alpha and her merry band of fucking sideshow freaks, and into the cornfield after Connie.

"Back to back!" I snarl.

She just looks at me, shaking her head, and then I remember. She's deaf. I can't imagine how terrifying that must be, but even if I could, I don't have time to think about it. There's walkers on us. I whirl around, burying my blade into one, then another, before turning back to Connie, motioning for her to spin around.

"Back to back," I mouth, making sure to exaggerate the letter sounds.

She gets it this time, shouldering the sling, the baby nestled safely against her body, and lining her shoulder blades up with mine. It's awkward and slow, but between the two of us, we're gonna be okay. We're handling it. At least, that's what I think until there's a whole group of dead bastards materializing seemingly out of thin air, surrounding us. We're stuck. We're holding our own, but we're stuck.

"Adie!" Daryl snarls from somewhere beyond my sight.

"We're here!"

He comes hurtling out from the next row over what feels like half a second later, Kelly, Earl, and Tammy Rose appearing at the other end. Kelly grabs hold of Connie and we all tear through the field, Daryl yanking me along by the elbow like if he takes his hand off me I'll get lost, and for one ridiculous second I'm tempted to smack his fingers away with the flat of my blade, but I don't. He doesn't let go of me until we're back inside the gates.

*Daryl's POV*

Lydia gave herself up. Henry tried to fight it, but she's going back willingly to save Alden and Luke. I hate it. But this is what we have to live with now. I take the girl by the arm and lead her out to the fence to make the trade and every step feels like betrayal. Like I'm delivering her to her death. All Lydia's talk about how you gotta be hard to survive in the world like it is, but she's soft. She's a broken kid and we're supposed to be protecting her. The second I let go of her, Alpha's people release Alden and Luke, the two of them passing Lydia at the fence, and I can't help but think of the last time I was part of a trade like this, of Grady and blonde hair and blood pooling across tile floors. This ain't that but it feels the same.

"Sorry, mom," Lydia murmurs weakly. "Thanks for comin' to get me."

Alpha rears back and swings, an open hand landing hard on Lydia's cheek and I can feel it, I can  _ feel  _ it like it was my ol' man and I'm 13 years old again.

"You call me Alpha," she says flatly, possessively putting her arms around her daughter. "Like all the rest."

"Yes, Alpha," Lydia mutters, and it's over.

There will be no conflict.

-

The sun's setting and I'm still thinking about it. Adie is, too, I know, 'cause she's running circles through the yard. She always needed to move when she's upset. Circles around the farm, circles around the prison yard, circles around Sanctuary, circles everywhere and I wonder if she runs in circles 'cause that's how her thoughts run, too. Dog's running right alongside her, having the time of his goddamn life. Everyone else seems to have moved on with the work that needs doing. Except Henry. Like Adie, he seems to need a physical outlet. He's training with his stick and he looks just like Morgan used to, fighting invisible enemies right here in this same damn spot back before the battle on the hill where Negan was supposed to die.

"I get why we had to do it," he says as I stomp by, stopping me where I stand. "But it doesn't make it okay."

"I never said it did," I mutter.

"So, what do we do?" He questions.

"We live with it."

"Yeah. That's what Aunt Adie said."

I hate how he's looking at me like I could've done a damn thing different. Like this is somehow my fault, like every goddamn thing else lately.

"I saw the scars on your back," he blurts, moving closer, still with that same look. "I think you know better than anyone what we just sent her back to. How can you live with that?"

"Look…" I say after a moment spent trying to find something right to spout off and coming up empty. "The world is just  _ shit _ sometimes. And you live with it. Sometimes that's all you can do."

"Yeah, but what about before?" He demands. "At Alexandria? I know what you did to help when things went bad there. I-"

"No," I interrupt, shaking my head. "You don't. Not really. I did what I had to do today. We all did."

I walk away before he can see the guilt. Yeah, we did what we had to. Yeah, it is just shit. But it still feels like there should've been something else.

*Adrienne's POV*

I can't sleep.

I tried to go to bed early. Didn't work out that way, though. I haven't been able to get comfortable, haven't been able to shut up the static in my brain. That girl… I know we did what we had to, like we've always done, but it just feels… it feels like it wasn't over. It isn't. Not for her. And the look on Daryl's face… it's not over for him, either. I sigh heavily, rolling to the side of my bed and planting my feet on the floor, leaning forward and tucking my head between my knees. I can still feel his grip on my arm, my hand, can still hear him.

_ It can't be you, I ain't gon' let it be you. _

What the hell does that even mean? Does he think I can't do it? But he didn't sound like he was doubting me, he sounded afraid. There are a thousand other things I should be thinking about, maybe more, but now that he's around again… he's all I can think about. I tried so hard to let him go when I finally accepted he wasn't coming back. I got pretty good at not seeing him everywhere after that, seeing him in everything. I kept the ring on. I don't know why, not really. I tried to take it off once, put it in the drawer where I used to keep Carl's letter. I slid it back in place before it even made it past the second knuckle.

"God damn it," I hiss, shoving my feet into my boots and, on second thought, snatching the extra blanket from the armchair I only use to put shit on, never to actually sit in.

I steal my way through the house, eyes darting warily about for Tara. I don't need her asking what I'm up for. I don't even know what I'm up for, I just want to see him and it pisses me off. I don't  _ want _ to want to see him. He's been sleeping in the hayloft and I've been content to let him 'cause it's already an upgrade from a tent on the ground anyway and I'm still angry. I think. I stop on my way past to give Voltaire an affectionate pat before marching myself up the steps, where Daryl's still up, perched on an old milk crate with his head in his hands. Dog wags his tail happily, panting up at me, and I give him a scratch behind the ears.

"You all right?" Daryl murmurs softly.

I sigh, roughly thrusting the blanket into his hands before sinking heavily to the floor beside Dog.

"Not really," I admit. "I can't sleep. Thought you might be cold."

"Thanks."

He unfolds the blanket and I find myself mesmerized by him like I always was. The only light out here is an oil lamp he's set up on a barrel, but he's glowing in the firelight, and I know it's sappy and stupid but he's always been so beautiful to me in this light. I love the way it turns him into bronze and shadows. I wish he'd come back for me, that I could convince myself he might stay. That he's here because he loves me. He gets to his feet and drapes the blanket over my shoulders. What the hell?

"You afraid it's got cooties or somethin'?" I question sarcastically.

"I ain't cold," he mutters, settling back down onto his crate.

"You're gonna be."

"Leave it when you go back inside, then."

"You could stay in the house, you know," I point out. "There's room."

"Dog likes it out here."

"Dog likes it, or you do?"

I didn't mean to sound so caustic and he flinches at the sharp tone, his eyes dropping to the floor. I still can't bring myself to say sorry, though.

"I, uh…" I trail off, letting my voice fade into nothing.

I can't pinpoint exactly when silence with Daryl became unbearable. It used to be comfortable, like it was enough just to be next to each other. We didn't need to talk all the time, but I always knew when he needed to say something it was usually best to just stay quiet until he got it out. It's different now. I wonder if it was always gonna be like this, even if he'd come back to me sooner. I wonder if we were always gonna break.

"When I was givin' her Lydia," he blurts. "It felt like what happened at Grady all over again."

"I know," I nod, letting my head drop against the wall behind me. "I thought the same thing. But… we couldn't've done it any differently. Not then and not today. We have to accept it."

"I know."

It's quiet again, just the crickets chirping and Dog's soft panting and the hiss of the oil lamp.

"Why'd you go out them gates?" Daryl questions eventually.

"The baby," I murmur. "I couldn't watch it happen."

Again with the silence and I wonder what I’d see if I could bring myself to look at his face. If his brow would be furrowed, his lips crushed into a flat, hard line, like when he’s trying to keep from trembling. I wonder if he still thinks about what we almost had, if he ever saw the little red-headed, blue-eyed baby I can still picture so clearly. He’d be strong and brave and smart like his daddy or maybe she’d be resilient with a fiery little temper, fingers calloused from a guitar she’s rarely seen without. I wonder if he ever wonders.

"Connie was on it," he points out.

"I didn't wait to see that, I just ran," I sigh, closing my eyes. "I just ran."

"You know it don't always have to be you, right?"

"Yes, it does," I whisper. "I mean, it feels like… it feels like it does."

"You been doin' things alone for too long."

My eyes fly wide open to find him looking right at me. He's chewing that damn lip of his like he always has when he's nervous, but his eyes are locked on mine. I've been doing things alone for too long. What the hell would he say that for? Like he's just making an observation, some innocent bystander doling out advice to passers by. Like he isn't the direct fucking cause of the crushing loneliness. But he's looking at me and, oh, god help me, my blood is on fire. I've been doing this alone too long. He's right. And maybe… maybe he's saying it 'cause he's gonna stay. Maybe I don't have to do it alone anymore.

*Daryl's POV*

She's looking at me almost like she used to and, for the first time since I came back to this place, I think maybe I can fix it. I don't know if it'll ever be like it was, I don't know if I'll ever earn that back, but it don't matter. I'll love her forever. I'll love her  _ forever. _ Something changes in her eyes and she gets to her feet, letting the blanket fall from her shoulders as she moves towards me. She stands over me, tilting my face up to hers before sliding her fingers through my hair, smoothing it back from my face, brushing her thumbs over my cheek bones, and this can't be fucking real, it can't… but then she's leaning in and she's so close, she's so fucking close I'm convinced I'm dreaming, and I'm perfectly content to keep on dreaming, but right before her lips-

"Daryl?"

Adie springs back from me like I pinched her or some shit and I know I'm not dreaming. A dream wouldn't be that cruel. Addy's standing here, eyes flickering between Adie and I, something like shock on her face.

"What?" I demand, not quite as civilly as I probably should've.

"I found this in," she shakes her head and holds out a slip of paper. "In Henry's room," her eyes dart to Adie's. "I, I knocked on your door, too, but you weren't there, um, obviously, so I-"

"It's okay, Addy," Adie murmurs, cheeks damn near the same color as her hair. "It's fine. Thank you."

She takes the paper and Addy nods, nervously disappearing back down the loft steps. Adie's brow furrows in concern, then arch as her eyes widen in horror.

"He's gone."

"What?" I hiss, snatching the note.

_ Couldn't live with it. _

_ Left to find Lydia. _

"Oh, damn it," I mutter, snatching my pack and hurtling down the stairs, Dog and Adie at my heels.

"Daryl," Adie says breathlessly. "Daryl, wait. I'm just gonna tell Tara we're leavin', she-"

"You ain't."

"What?" She demands, following me towards the gate. "You're jokin'."

"You ain't goin'," I tell her firmly. "You're gon' stay here, get your people ready for the fair. I'll get Henry and take him to Kingdom, you'll meet us."

"Daryl-"

"Adrienne, it can't be you!" I snarl, voice fraying. "You're safer here. You ain't goin'."

"What, so, so you're just gonna go  _ alone? _ " She demands, practically shouting. "Bein' around me is so damn bad, you'd rather go by yourself? She has an  _ army- _ "

"I'm gon' find him before he finds 'em," I snap, whirling on her. "Don't make this somethin' it ain't, Adie."

She freezes, stricken, and I ain't got time to wonder what the hell she's hearing, I gotta get outta here. Find Henry before he gets himself killed 'cause he can't live with it. I turn away, leaving Adie behind. This time she don't follow me. But Connie does. She's scribbling something on a notepad. Damn it, I don't have  _ time.  _ She flips the note around so I can read it.

_ Where are you going? _

I pull Henry's note from my vest. She reads it, nods, and starts writing another note. Damn it.

_ I'm going with you. _

"No."

I'm walking again, hoping she'll drop it, but she don't, chasing after me and grabbing me by the arm. She taps her note again insistently.

"Why?"

_ I can't live with it either. _

Oh, fuck, fine. As long as she hurries the hell up. I don't know how much of a lead he's got on us.

*Adrienne's POV*

Connie.

He's letting Connie go with him. I'm sitting on the steps in front of the house, watching their exchange, wondering what the fuck  _ don't make this somethin' it ain't _ means, and then they take off through the gates with Dog. I wasn't ready to watch him go again, not without me, and if I'm being completely honest it fucking  _ hurts _ to see him walk away with another woman and I know, I  _ know  _ how ridiculous that is, he just met her, but I can't help it. He didn't want me to go, wants me not to make this into something, but what is this? What does that mean? This like us or this like leaving?

I drag myself to my feet, but instead of going to my bed like I know I should, I find myself back up in the hayloft, sinking onto his milk crate and sobbing into my hands. I need him to come back, I need more time, because he left me without a word when I needed him, stayed gone for too long, only came back for Carol, and he's still, he's  _ still  _ the only man who ever set my soul on fire. I still love him.

*Daryl's POV*

Seems Henry had a decent enough lead on us. We've been walking all night and into the morning following his tracks and we still ain't found shit. Until now. It ain't just Henry's tracks anymore, it's a whole bunch of 'em. Connie scribbles down a note, another one. I need to learn sign language. This shit's time consuming and anyway, what happens when her pen runs out? Maybe there's a book back at Hilltop, I know they got a Spanish one.

_ He caught up w/ them _

"Yeah," I grunt, eyeing the tracks. "Yeah, there was a struggle."

She taps my arm impatiently, forcing my eyes back to hers. She twirls her index finger around in the air in front of my mouth, then points from her eyes to my lips and back. Christ.

"They caught up to him," I tell her, trying my best to exaggerate the words.

I don't know if I did a decent job of it, but it don't matter 'cause Dog's found something down in the ditch beside where we're standing. Henry's stick. Kid's out here alone without a weapon.

"Good boy," I murmur, climbing down the banks and giving Dog a scratch. "Good boy. Yeah," I lift the stick from the dirt, hefting it in the air for Connie to see, pointing it north. "They went that way."

Before she can respond with a note or even a nod, Dog is growling and snarling at a pair of walkers making their way across the ground towards us. Oh, hell… ain't no way Connie's gonna be down for this, but I think I just figured out our way in. She raises her slingshot as I raise my bow and we take 'em out.

"Nice." I nod, eyeing her weapon of choice.

A fucking slingshot. It's brilliant. Silent, you can use it from a distance, unlimited ammo… maybe we should all start carrying slingshots. Dog's still barking but there ain't nothin' here.

"Dog!" I whistle, waiting for him to retrieve my arrow.

I remember teaching him how to do that and thinking about the days when Adie just took it upon herself to pull my arrows out and clean 'em, like it was her job. I got used to not getting them myself when she was around.

"Come on," I tell Dog and he scampers over, arrow between his teeth. "Out."

Apparently Dog's tired of doing what he's told 'cause he growls and refuses to give it up, jerking away and leaving me with half an arrow in hand. I exchange a glance with Connie, who just smirks and shakes her head.

"Bad dog," I mutter.

-

It don't take too long to find their camp, but we can't just go running in there without a plan. We gotta be smart about this. So we're gonna wait til dark. We're gonna lead Alpha's herd right through her camp. And we're gonna wear the skin masks we pulled off two of the assholes after we killed 'em. I didn't think Connie would be okay with all of it, but she don't protest and I'm glad for that. It don't feel right, walking with the dead. It reminds me of something Rick said in that barn when that hurricane blew through, should've killed us all.

_ Rest in peace, now go to war. _

We ain't them. We weren't then and we ain't now. This is what we have to do to get our boy back, so we're gonna do it. Once we've led the herd into the camp and the chaos starts, panicked screams rising up from the skin freaks, Connie and I circle around to where we can see Henry and Lydia. They're just standing in the middle of all of it, not doing a damn thing. Lydia wasn't lying when she said her people just move on when the shit hits. Some of 'em are pinned down, getting eaten alive, and ain't nobody stopping to help each other. It's sick. But it ain't my problem.

"Keep your head down," I murmur, grabbing Henry by the elbow. "We're leavin'."

He's only freaked out by the mask for a second, then he gets that stubborn look like he does, planting his feet firmly on the ground.

"Not without Lydia."

I've already thought about it and I can't bring her with us. It's shit and I don't like it, but I can't put my people at risk for one girl we met a few days ago. It's why Adie decided to make the trade. It was the right call. There's more of these people than we thought.

"No, the girl stays."

"Then so do I."

Oh, god damn it.

"Henry…" Lydia shakes her head, tears slipping down her cheeks.

"No," he insists. "I'm not leaving you. I won't."

Fuck it. Fine. We'll figure it out later.

"Now," I order, snatching his hand.

"Come on," he grabs hold of Lydia's hand and she takes hold of Connie and we all run, Dog meeting us on the fringes of the camp.

We ain't been running more than a mile or so when Henry trips over his feet and goes tumbling to the ground.

"You all right?" I ask breathlessly.

"This isn't the way back to Hilltop," he pants.

"Adie made a deal with those assholes," I point out. "We broke it. We ain't goin' back to Hilltop."

"He's right," Lydia says, eyes darting about fearfully. "There's too many of them. Alpha would destroy Hilltop to get me back now."

"Yeah, why didn't you tell us there was that many of 'em?" I demand.

"You kept me locked in a cage," she snaps. "What did you expect? I wasn't gonna betray my own people."

"Well, maybe you should go back to 'em," I growl, glaring at her. "Henry didn't know what he was gettin' his ass into, but you sure as hell did."

"I thought I could go back," she whispers. "I can't."

"Well, you ain't comin' with us."

"Hey," Henry murmurs, clapping Lydia's arm. "Hey, we could run. Me and her. You guys go back, and… and  _ we _ keep running. They can't blame Hilltop if we just disappear."

"Henry, we can't," Lydia argues.

"Let me fix this," he insists.

"No," I grunt. "There's no way in hell I'm lettin' you run away with this one. No way. Think of your mom!"

I'm all set to continue reaming his ass, but Connie suddenly leaps to her feet. We gotta move.

"No, she's right, come on," I command, pulling Lydia to her feet. "We gotta go, come on."

Connie's moving in the wrong direction, though, and the kids stop, eyeing us in confusion.

"It's this way," I point, but Connie shakes her head. "Yeah, this way."

I don't know what the hell she's trying to do, but after motioning for us to follow her she just assumes we're gonna and I assume we ain't, only one of us is wrong and it ain't her.

"No," I hiss when Dog goes hurtling after Connie and the fucking runaway twins. "No. Dog!"

Son of a fucking bitch.


	11. Your World Is Already Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say a huge thank you all of you, dear readers, but especially to those of you who came from the original Just Some Redneck Asshole. Writing my OC this far into canon and still keeping it as canonically uh... canon as possible has been a struggle for me and I know I haven't been updating as quickly as you're used to, so thank you so much for your patience and for still reading my story! You mean the absolute world!

**Chapter 11**

*Adrienne's POV*

"Oh, Adie."

My eyes flutter open, Tara's face coming into focus above me, backlit by the retina searing, eye-stabbingly bright morning sun.

"You slept up here?" She demands, clasping my hand and helping me into a sitting position.

"Looks that way," I groan, stretching and stifling a yawn.

"Why?"

"I thought it might be comfy," I tell her snippily, struggling to get my brain working properly again. "Daryl's-"

"Gone," she huffs, sinking cross-legged beside me and thrusting a bowl of oatmeal into my hands. "Yeah, I know."

"Thanks," I murmur. "How-"

"He's not here," she shrugs. "It's not the first time you two have woken me up in the middle of the night. Only all the times before you sounded  _ a lot  _ happier-"

"Shut up," I hiss, smacking her in the shoulder while she cackles.

She's got her damn clipboard with her and I figure we're gonna be here for a while, so I dig into the oatmeal, hoping the heat might give me a jump start before she starts rattling off what will undoubtedly be a very long and detailed list of all the shit I have to do before we leave for the Kingdom. She put extra honey in it. Probably to make up for the list.

"No, but seriously," she says, sobering. "I heard it all. He went to get Henry, he'll see you at Kingdom and you guys can fight there. Or maybe you could both remove your heads from your assholes and do the whole kiss and make up thing."

I just stare at her, chewing silently.

"I'm just saying."

"Tara, he fucked off into the woods to live like some, some kind of, of...  _ mountain man, _ " I sputter around another mouthful of oatmeal. "For  _ six years! _ "

"Yup," she nods. "He did. And now he's back and you're both still alive and still in love and I'm tired of listening to you bitch at each other. Eat, we have a lot to go through before we leave."

That was a fucking understatement. We have three convoys set to leave, all with three and four carts each, but we're leaving first, which means we have a dozen carts to prepare before we can go. Alden's convoy will leave an hour after ours and Hilde and Miles will take the last convoy an hour after that. Once we've ticked off each of Tara's boxes, though, we're on the move. The distance between us and the Kingdom is miles and miles of broken road. The bridge would have fixed that, but we never rebuilt it. Maybe after this fair, we'll all come together again and do something about that. Maybe Daryl's already there. Maybe he's waiting.

My optimism lasts until we hit a massive downed tree laying across the asphalt, blocking our way forward.

"The storm must've knocked it down," Tara observes.

"Yeah," I sigh. "We need to clear it before Alden's group catches up. More of us out here, we'll be sittin' ducks."

"We'll set up a perimeter," Yumiko volunteers.

"Okay," I nod. "The rest of you, let's go. Move what you can move, we'll cut up the rest."

"Hey," Kelly says quietly, pulling me aside. "Is there anything I can do? I'm kinda goin' crazy over here."

"I am, too," I admit, squeezing her hand. "A little bit. But Connie's gonna be fine."

"Of course she will, she's with Daryl," Tara says confidently, snatching up a hatchet.

"Yeah," Yumiko cuts in on her way across the road. "More like Daryl's gonna be okay, he's with Connie."

"Hey," Magna murmurs. "They're gonna catch up with that kid and meet us at the fair. Know what? They're probably already waiting for us."

Kelly smiles sadly, not quite convinced, and I take her by the hand.

"Come on," I tell her. "Keepin' your hands busy'll help."

*Daryl's POV*

Connie led us all out of the woods and into town, but that herd's been on our ass all night and now we're exposed. I'm about to turn us all around and head right back into the trees for cover when she points out a high-rise down the road.

"Take the high ground?" I nod, considering while she scrawls another note. "Yeah."

_ Choke point. _

"Good idea," I agree. "Come on."

"I don't understand," Henry says as the four of us and Dog move towards the building.

"They use walkers to protect themselves, right?" I explain, pointing. "So we go up. Someplace the walkers can't go. We separate the living from the dead. They travel in a herd, but there's only like five or six of 'em in the middle, right?"

"Yeah," Lydia confirms. "But if we go up there, we're trapped. Alpha's not gonna send an army 'cause she doesn't have to. She'll send Beta."

"I'm sick of runnin'," I sigh. "This Beta, he their best?"

Lydia nods.

"Good. We'll kill him first. Come on."

-

This place ain't bad. Looks a lot like some of the apartments Merle and me spent time in when we were in Atlanta. We didn't live there or nothin', but the janky fuckers Merle hung out with all the time did. I used to wonder if me and Adie were ever near each other before all this, if we ever passed on the street or just missed each other at the 7-11. I've thought about it a lot, actually. How it would've gone down if we met before. I think we were both too broken then to ever make it work. Kinda feels like we needed the world to go to shit so we could figure shit out. Then again, I guess we're still broken. I keep wondering if she was really gonna kiss me before that girl found Henry's note.

I shake it off. Can't think about that shit now, I gotta keep my shit tight so I can take care of this Beta thing. We'll get our shit sorted out at the Kingdom. After exploring the building and seeing what's where, I head up the stairs to find Connie. This building was under construction when the shit hit and she's on one of the unfinished levels, poking around a hole in the floor.

"That stairwell's already barricaded," I announce, taking in the supplies she's pilfering. "I guess you know that," she pops up from the hole, handing me a bottle of water. "Thanks."

I unscrew the cap and take a sip while she writes her note. I really gotta learn sign language.

_ We stayed _

_ here once. _

"Yeah," I nod, gesturing at the supplies in the floor. "A little secret stash for emergency? Smart."

She nods, smiling appreciatively and motioning for me to follow her to a map on the far wall.

"All right," I sigh, leaning in to study it. "There's only two ways up, that's good. I think these barricades," I tap the stairwells I'd seen filled with enough furniture to stock an IKEA, curling my hands into fists and smacking them together. "A little too barricaded. So, we'll cut open holes so that they can walk up here."

She gives me a thumbs up and I'm pleasantly surprised at how easy it is to communicate with her with very little extra effort from me. When I found out about her being deaf I wondered how the hell she'd made it out here, figured she must have relied pretty heavily on her people's protection, but she don't. She can take care of herself.

"All right?" I question, just to check, patting her arm when she nods. "Thanks," I stride across the room, looking around at the bright white light streaming through the windows. "This place is good. This might work."

_ Then what? _

"All right," I mutter, leaning down to read her note. "' _ Then what? _ ' Then we go."

She looks down at her notepad, scribbling away again.

_ The girl stays. _

"No," I shake my head. "No."

She's adamant, though, slashing two lines violently across the page beneath her note. But we can't. I can't risk all them people back home, I won't do it.

"If we take her back, my friends die," I point out. "Your friends, too."

She wrinkles up her face like she don't know what the hell I'm trying to say.

"Gimme this."

I snatch the notepad from her, hastily scrawling my own message in decidedly shittier handwriting. It ain't pretty, but at least it's legible. Sort of.

_ OUR FRIENDS _

_ WILL DIE _

She ain't impressed, snatching the notepad back from me, furiously writing down another note, tearing it from the notebook, and shoving it into my hand before angrily stalking away.

_ We have friends. _

_ She doesn't. _

Oh, damn it. She's right. But she ain't right, not really. Fuck, I don't know. Where the hell are them kids, anyway?

-

It ain't hard to find 'em. They're arguing about something, all kinds of racket echoing through the empty building. Need to teach 'em to keep quiet. And maybe to be a little more observant. Neither damn one of 'em heard me push the door open. I ain't trying to hide, neither, but they're still just fucking oblivious.

"Then we'll run," Henry's saying.

"Will you stop?" Lydia demands. "There's no place we can go where she won't find us."

"Come on, sure there is. Lydia… there's a whole  _ world  _ out there."

"Did you mean what you said last night? That you'd go with me?"

"Yeah," Henry breathes, sincerity practically fucking oozing from his pores. "I did."

"Why'd you come for me?" Lydia whispers, taking a few steps closer to him, and I can't help but think of Adie.

_ Why are you here, Daryl? _

Jesus, I can't think about that right now. These kids and their Romeo and Juliet bullshit's gonna get everyone we know killed. Fuck,  _ Romeo and Juliet's _ Romeo and Juliet bullshit got everyone they knew killed. Dumbasses.

"For real this time," Lydia continues. "Tell me why."

"Because," Henry says quietly. "I care about you."

Oh, hell, and now they're kissing and this is getting fucking weird.

"Hey," I blurt, the two of 'em flying apart like kids do when they're caught pretending to be adults. "Come on, we're headed up to keep watch."

"Yeah," Henry agrees. "Sure."

I ain't gonna lie, part of me thinks it's just a little bit funny I fucked up their moment. Just a little.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Hey, Adie," Magna calls, she and Yumiko tearing towards where me and the others are still chopping like the world's slowest and least efficient lumberjacks.

"Yeah?" I huff, swiping away a bead of sweat threatening to drip from my brow bone.

"Sickos headed this way," she announces.

"How many?" Tara demands.

"Maybe ten," Yumiko guesses. "It's hard to tell. They're coming out of the trees."

"We can handle 'em," Kelly says confidently.

"Yeah, if they're just walkers," I sigh. "It could be those freaks in the masks. Earl, hitch the horses."

"I'm on it," Earl assures me.

"All right, Kal, Oscar, Tara, with me," I order. "You three, watch the wagon. Walkers start comin', you watch their hands, they could have knives."

Looks like these dead people are actually dead and we're doing just fine without any help, thank you, but now there are five men on horseback thundering towards us from the other end of the road. All five of 'em dismount and fling themselves into the fray, like some kind of cowboy power rangers or some shit.

"Who in the hell  _ are _ you?" I demand breathlessly, whirling and burying my hatchet in a walker skull.

"We're the Highwaymen," one of the men announces, hurling a wrench at another of the dead. "We're your escorts to the fair."

"Escorts?" I hiss, knocking a corpse over and bringing my heel down on its head. "We don't need  _ escorts! _ "

"Sure looks like you could use the help, ma'am," he says, smirking and tipping his hat when the last walker falls. "At your service."

*Daryl's POV*

They're coming. It's probably a dick move, but I'm tired of being chased, so I step out onto the balcony and fire an arrow into one of the dead, making damn sure this Beta knows we're here. Sooner we put these assholes down, the sooner we can get our ass to Kingdom and I can see… we can see the fair. I sprint down the stairs to the ground floor lobby where I left Connie and the kids to stack a bunch of shit against the entry point.

"All right," I announce, bursting through the door. "They're here. Let's go."

We tear up the stairs to the floor where the plan is to split up and I'm gonna leave Henry with Connie. I still don't know about Lydia. She don't wanna go back, I know, but I also know shit gets confusing when you love the people who hurt you.

"Hey," I grunt, shining my flashlight at the girl. "You're with me."

She rushes to give Henry a goodbye kiss and it's all I can do not to roll my eyes. I turn my attention to Dog, instead.

"Come on, boy."

I lead Lydia to a closet close to the middle of the floor, somewhere between the north and south stairwells. If Beta's their best, he's gonna figure out there are only two stairwells and their group will split up. Connie and Henry will take out whoever shows up at the south stairwell. I got north. With any luck, we ain't gonna have any crossover and Lydia can just wait it out. I'm gonna leave Dog, just in case.

"Go ahead," I order, nodding at the closet. "Get in."

"What the hell?" She blurts. "No, I wanna help."

"How you gon' help if you ain't gon' fight?" I demand. "Nah, you'll just get in the way. Go. Get in."

She seems to realize arguing is pointless and we're kind of on the clock here, so I'm relieved when she shuffles into the closet without anymore protest.

"Dog," I grunt, ushering him in after her. "Anybody comes through this door, he'll take 'em down. If that happens, you run."

She's quiet and I take that as agreement, 'cause I ain't got time to think otherwise, and push the door closed.

"Wait," she says, stopping me before I can get the door shut all the way. "Thank you."

I just close the door and chain it shut with a padlock, leaving the keys dangling. This ain't a goddamn hallmark movie. I got shit to do. I make my way to that bright white room and aim my bow at the doors. Soon as them assholes push it open, I can take one of 'em out. That's the plan, at least, until the doors fly open and my arrow ends up lodged in another fucking door. They'd pulled one off the hinges, used it like a shield. God damn it. Still, there's only three of 'em. I take off running, ducking for cover behind one of the big, white sheets hanging from the rafters, snatching up an axe and waiting.

It ain't long before the silhouette of one of them freaks looms over the sheet, their shadow all long and distorted. I swing, axe plunging through the sheet and into flesh. I let go of the weapon, letting the body fall to the floor, taking the sheet with it. One down. I heel toe my way silently through the room, ducking and weaving around and between sheets. Probably the one good god damn thing my dad ever did in his miserable fucking life was teaching Merle and me to hunt. The second skin freak don't hear me coming and I'm able to catch him by surprise, grabbing him from behind and dragging my blade across his throat. I gently lower him to the ground. This was too easy, neither of these assholes are Beta. Unless their best ain't all that.

The only warning I get is the sound of footsteps on the ground before someone hurtles through the goddamn wall and lifts me from the floor, slamming me into the metal framework behind me before dropping my ass to the ground. Guess I deserved that for being a little too confident.

"The girl," Beta hisses, drawing his knife. "Where is she?"

I ain't telling this dude shit. I roll over, snatching a 2X4 from the floor and scrambling to my feet. I don't know what the fuck kind of juiced up steroidal freak this dude is, but he rips the board from my hand and tosses it aside like it's nothing. It bought me some time, though, and when he turns back to face me I've got both my knives up and out. I slash at him, catching nothing but air, trying to channel Adie as I duck and dance around him. Probably don't look nearly as graceful as when she does it, though, and I'm almost not surprised when I get a boot to the gut and go down, knives flying from my hands.

I am a little bit surprised, however, when the fucker picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder like I'm nothin' but a toddler throwing a fit. Only last I checked, the general consensus on flipping toddlers over your shoulder and flinging their ass to the floor is that it's a pretty big fuckin' no. He yanks me up by the scruff of my shirt and bends me over a table saw, the blade close enough to my jugular I can feel it brushing against my beard hairs.

"Where is she?" He demands.

I throw every ounce of strength I can fucking muster into hurling an elbow backwards once, then twice, and this time he's the one whose ass hits the ground, landing on a window pane, but even shattered glass don't seem to faze this guy. He's back on his feet in less time than it takes to blink, his fist flying at my face, and then he's lifting me by the scruff of my shirt again, hurling my ass to the floor  _ again.  _ He lifts his foot, which also seems to be much fucking bigger than a normal sized human's should be, and brings it down hard, just missing my face as I roll over, retrieving the small pocketknife from inside my vest, which I lodge somewhere near his collarbone.

I hope it fucking hurt. It must have, really, 'cause he kicks me and I go flying through a panel of unfinished drywall. He's pissed, and instead of just following me through the hole my body made, he chooses to punch his way through the panel up above it. Works for me. I roll across the floor, dropping into Connie's secret stash hole and pulling the floorboard over me just before Beta's freakishly huge feet emerge from the other side of the wall. I can hear my knife clatter to the floor, then his heavy footfalls as he strolls across the room, looking for me.

"You and your people are nothing to me," he growls, oblivious to the floor board I'm now sliding back open. "Your world is already dead."

I climb up out of the hole as quietly as I can, eyes glued to his back as he slowly approaches two of the sheets hanging in front of what he must think is my hiding spot. Asshole.

"All I want is the girl."

The sheets flutter and he freezes, eyeing the call button on the wall. It don't matter. He whirls around just a second too late. I hurl myself across the room and shove him as hard as I can, right down the elevator shaft. If he ain't dead before he hits the bottom, and by the sounds of things, he's smacking into shit the whole way down, the dull thud and subsequent silence remove any doubt. I lean over the hole and spit the blood I can taste in my mouth into the darkness. Three down. And I'm taking my fuckin' knife with me.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Where you want Voltage, ma'am?" Ozzie questions, startling the hell out of me as I help my people unload Hilltop's fair delegations.

"Uh," I turn to find him holding onto my horse's reins, eyeing me expectantly from beneath the brim of his hat. "It's  _ Voltaire,  _ and I know where the stables are, thank you."

"Well, let me take him for you," he offers, disappearing with Voltaire and his own horse in tow.

"It's fi-" I stop short, squinting at his retreating figure. "Okay?"

"He wanted to know where Mr. Adrienne is," Tara snickers, handing me a crate of jam before grabbing her own crate and leading me to one of the Hilltop tables.

We made it to the Kingdom and it looks kind of amazing. There are tables and flags and pop up tents all over the place, excited voices creating a collective hum in the air.

"Mr. Adrienne," I scoff. "He's supposed to be here. I don't see him, do you?"

"I'm sure he's with-"

"Hi," Carol sing songs, she and the King materializing behind us.

He's not with Carol. Before I can ask, though, Ezekiel's pulling me into a bone crushing hug and passing me off to Carol, exchanging me for Tara.

"Oh, it's good to see you," Carol murmurs, squeezing me tight and rubbing my back before releasing me. "Where's Henry?"

"He's not here?" I question, face falling.

"Mm-mm," Carol shakes her head.

"What about Daryl?" Tara demands, stricken. "We were meeting them here."

"Where exactly are they?"

"I… I don't know," I admit. "Carol, we need to talk."

*Daryl's POV*

One of them assholes stabbed Henry in the leg and I know Carol's gonna kick my ass, and then so will Adie. We can bind it, but it needs stitches and soon, sooner than we can get him to Kingdom. We're gonna have to make a pit stop. Connie's back from slingshotting some windows out of the minivan parked out front. She meets my eyes and nods. Good, it worked then. The walkers are distracted, we should be able to slip on outta here.

"All right," I huff. "All right, we should go."

"You figure out where we're goin'?" Henry questions, unsteadily getting to his feet.

"Alexandria's closest," I nod. "So we'll get you stitched up there."

"No, we can't," he protests. "If her people find out we're there, everybody-"

"Hell, we ain't stayin'," I cut him off. "We'll get you back on your feet, and then we'll move on. All of us."

I've been thinking about it. This girl don't have friends. We do. Now she's part of us. Adie's just gonna have to deal with that. If we gotta fight to keep her safe, that's what we'll do.

"No," Henry breathes, delighted. "No, but… no, but where are we going?"

"I heard there's a whole world out there," I mutter. "Come on."

-

Apparently I ain't gonna just waltz into Alexandria with my extras. I get it, but if Michonne don't let us in, I don't know what the hell we're gonna do about Henry's leg. Aaron went to get her and there's a few moments we're just standing here awkwardly with Laura staring down her nose at us, but only a few.

"Henry's hurt," I explain when Michonne appears on the watchpost beside Laura. "You were closest. I wouldn't've come. We had no other choice."

"What about her?" Michonne demands, glaring at Lydia.

"She's with us," Henry announces.

Michonne's eyes slide to mine and I just nod. I'll vouch for the girl. I hope I don't regret it. Michonne turns to Aaron, who's shaking his head like he don't agree with whatever she's saying, and I'm thinking about telling them to just forget it, I'll find somewhere else, but-

"Open it!"

Michonne gives the order, the gates fly open, and Henry's whisked straight to the infirmary for stitches. Lydia don't leave his side and Laura's watching both of 'em like a hawk. I don't know what the hell she thinks a damn teenager's gonna do, but whatever.

"So, where to now?" Michonne questions while I rinse the blood off my hands in a bucket on the front porch. "Straight to the Kingdom?"

"Well, probably not straight, but yeah," I murmur. "Carol should know."

"Is Adie there already?"

The question makes me a little uncomfortable and I ain't sure why. Maybe it's the way she's looking at Connie when she asks, like she's confused Adie ain't with me. She wanted to be. Or maybe it's just 'cause I don't  _ know _ where she is and that don't feel right.

"Supposed to be, yeah."

Michonne's eyes narrow, but she drops it and I'm grateful. I don't wanna talk about her.

While Henry's getting fixed up, I decide I can't leave without checking on Judith. It'd tear the kid up. I used to come see her a lot more, but being here in this place… there are so many memories and they ain't all bad ones. Adie grinning and flipping the bird on a porch that don't exist anymore, Adie walking barefoot down the street in a little black dress she hated and I loved, Adie's nails dragging down my back in the night, her breath hot on my neck, Adie  _ everywhere.  _ I married her here on the best night of my life and I promised her I'd love her forever and I still do and everything about this place reminds me of her and leaving her was so fucking  _ stupid. _

_ I wouldn't've stopped you. _

I sigh heavily, drawing my knees to my chest and glaring at the sunlight dancing across the pond. Judy's next to me on the dock. This is our spot. She's been mostly quiet. She used to just chatter almost incessantly, like Carl did when he was her age, about anything and everything under the sun. I feel like I let her down, too. I never should've stopped coming around. Maybe if I stayed...

"Is Hilltop in danger?" She questions eventually.

"I don't know," I tell her quietly. "Might be."

"But you helped Lydia, anyways."

"No, I went to get Henry," I correct. "Lydia just kinda tagged along."

"You brought her here," she points out. "That means you wanna help. I wanna help, too."

"I know you do."

"Would you stay if my mom says it's okay?"

For a second, just for a second, I wanna say yes. This was home for a minute, years ago. Then again, Adie always made everywhere feel like home. Maybe Hilltop could feel like home. Maybe I could ask Adie to come back here with me, maybe we could…

"Nah," I decide. "I should keep movin'. Your mom's right. Keepin' you 'n RJ safe. This place. That's… that's what's important."

She's quiet for a minute. She looks so much like Carl did, especially in that hat. Something about her face when she speaks, the way her eyes look much older than they should. I asked her once if she remembers him at all. She says she don't think so, not really, but she likes listening to us talk about him so she can feel like she remembers. So I sometimes tell her the things I remember, like the time we found a three pack of silly string at a Dollar General we stayed in some time between the farm and the prison and Glenn, Adie, and Carl declared all-out war on each other, how we all got caught in the crossfire and chaos. I try to tell her the good times that made all the bad times seem worth it.

"No, it isn't," she shakes her head, glancing up at me. "I mean, not  _ just _ us. I've heard the stories, how everyone fought the Saviors and won. We can do that again."

"You haven't heard all the stories."

"What would my dad do?"

Her dad would fight the skin freaks. He'd fight until every last one of 'em was dead or surrendered. It'd be another bloody war and it'd be more death and more suffering and it would feel endless again, like this is all there's ever gonna be.

"Yeah," she says triumphantly. "That's what I thought."

-

"Remember way back when I told you you'd make a great father?" Aaron questions later, walking me, Connie, and the kids to the gate.

It's after dark and we're leaving. Less risk of being seen that way. I remember. Of course I do. I think about it sometimes. I thought about it a lot when Michonne's belly would look bigger and bigger by the week, when I'd run into her by the burned out bridge and we'd look together. I thought about what Adie would have looked like, all round like that. I wondered if she would've been happy. I thought about what it would be like to put my hands on her swollen stomach and feel something moving around in there and how fucking  _ impossible _ it would've seemed, even then.

"You got to skip the exploding diapers part, but..." Aaron continues, the two of us hanging back while the others keep on. "I was right. And I still think… I still think Adie would make a great mom, too."

"A lot's changed," I mutter. "Back then, we were still buildin' bridges."

Back then, me and Adie were good. Well, we weren't good, not exactly, but it still felt like we were us and we could do that. It don't feel like us now. Aaron don't say nothin' else, just moves to open the gate while Michonne wraps me in a hug.

"Stay safe," she murmurs, holding onto me like maybe she just ain't gonna let me leave.

"Yeah, you too," I mumble into her shoulder, hugging her a little tighter before releasing her. "Thank you."

I pull away, glancing over at the tiny kid in a sheriff's hat who ain't gonna come say goodbye 'cause she don't think I should go. I lift my hand and wave at her anyway, though, and she waves back, remaining rooted to her spot.

"She's mad at me," Michonne says softly.

"It's 'cause she don't know," I point out. "Why don't you tell her?"

Judy knows a lot, too much for a kid her age, but she don't know the worst of it. She don't know what Michonne would do to keep her safe, what Michonne  _ did _ do. What we had to do.

"She's not ready," she sighs. "Neither am I. She's a kid. And she gets to keep being one as long as I can help it."

"That's not just a little kid you got there," I tell her, squeezing her shoulder and turning away. "Dog!"

It's time to go. Maybe I'll be back, though. Maybe I can come back.


	12. You'll See It As You Leave

**Chapter 12**

*Adrienne's POV*

"I stand before you today at the start of a new tomorrow."

We've been here at the Kingdom for a full day now, and no sign of Daryl, Henry, or Connie. Between the two of us, Tara and I explained about Alpha and Lydia, that Henry ran away to save the girl and Daryl and Connie went to get him. Tara and Ezekiel are sure they're fine. They're with Daryl. I'm not as convinced, and neither is Carol. Daryl's just a man. He can die as quick as anyone else and I'm trying not to let that thought take root. We're taking a group out to search for them after Ezekiel's welcome speech, me and Carol and a few of the others. It's gonna be fine, they're all fine.

"A tomorrow made possible by the sacrifices of many over the years." The King continues, beaming down at the crowd from the theater balcony. "Among them, a man whose mission it was to build community and strengthen the bonds between us. A man who had to destroy the very thing that connected us... in order to save us."

I don't think I'll ever be able to think about Rick and not ache in my chest. I  _ miss _ him so much. I miss that crooked grin he had and the optimism and how fiercely protective he was and I miss making fun of his bow legs and his terrible taste in music and I miss how he never gave up on what he believed in. My vision starts to swim and Carol's hand curls around my fingers. I shoot her a grateful smile, squeezing, and she knocks her shoulder into mine.

"It took us far too long to fulfill the promise of what Rick Grimes and his son Carl envisioned, the same promise Paul Rovia, better known to most as Jesus, believed in when he brought us all together those many years ago. We've always been bound to each other. We always will be. We  _ fought  _ our way back to each other. We have grown. The crossing over the river may be gone, but we have rebuilt a  _ bridge _ nonetheless! Today is proof that we can unite, not against a common enemy, but for the common good. So eat, drink, trade, and be merry… 'cause we got a lotta lost time to make up for."

He grins, his speech met with a smattering of applause and whoops of general agreement. Jerry breaks free from the crowd, turning to face us and practically bursting with joy.

"Let the First Annual Inter-community Reunification Fair begin!" He hollers, laughter and applause greeting him.

"Jerry!" Ezekiel hisses. "We changed that."

"For reals?" Jerry demands. "F.A.I.R. Fair?"

"It's too many-" Ezekiel starts, changing his mind halfway through. "Never mind. Let The Fair of New Beginning begin!"

They really went all out for this thing. One of Jerry and Nabila's kids releases a quartet of white doves into the air and a band begins to play. The atmosphere almost feels like a carnival back before the turn and part of me really wishes I could stay and enjoy it. Rick would've loved this, and Carl and Glenn and maybe even Abe. It's okay that I can't, though. I'm content in knowing my people are safe, that they're here and happy and reconnected.

"Hey." Carol murmurs, greeting the King as he approaches where we're preparing the search team. "You sounded good up there."

"I should be going with you." He says insistently, giving my shoulder an affectionate squeeze before turning serious again. "It's my duty to go with you, I'm his father."

"Yeah, you're also the king." Carol points out. "It's bad enough I'm leaving. If you go, too, everybody's gonna wanna know why. We put months of work into this fair. The Kingdom needs you here."

"Are we going or what?" Kelly demands impatiently.

"Hey." I soothe. "We're goin'. We are, okay?"

"My  _ sister's _ out there somewhere." She frets.

"No, she's not." Magna says, smiling softly and nodding at the gate.

I barely have time to register they're here before Dog comes bounding over, knocking me to the ground and attacking my face with big, wet kisses.

"Hi, puppy." I chuckle, pushing his nose away and trying to sit up to no avail. "Hi, boy!"

"Dog!" Daryl barks, prompting the furry beast to let me up.

Ezekiel, ever chivalrous, helps me to my feet before turning his attention to Henry, who is limping towards his parents as fast as he can, throwing himself into Carol's waiting arms.

"You can't ever run away like that again." She says tearily. "Not ever again."

"Okay, I won't." He assures her. "I promise."

Ezekiel claps him on the shoulder, the three of them embracing, and something tugs at the inside of my chest, some kind of heartache for something I almost had. I hazard a glance at Daryl and he's watching them, too, a sad smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"And  _ you. _ " Carol says, breaking away from her boys to march over to Daryl and pull him into a hug.

"Michonne." Ezekiel blurts, eyeing the woman no one thought would attend this fair.

She's here. She's here and she's got Judith and holy  _ shit _ , Little Asskicker's not so little anymore.

"I was in the neighborhood, so…" Michonne shrugs.

"Bullshit you were." I grin, gathering her into my arms.

"Adie! Language!"

It takes me a second to realize who just spoke, the voice so small and unfamiliar having come from the little girl in a sheriff's hat. I didn't think after all this time…

"You remember me?" I breathe, crouching down in front of her.

"Of course I do." She chirps, wrapping her arms around me. "You're family."

"Judith?" Carol questions with a quiet chuckle, pointing from herself to the King. "Do you remember us?"

"I've been drawing pictures of all of you since I was little." Judith says, releasing me. "You're Carol, and you're the King. Your hair got really long."

"It did." Carol says, beaming.

"Your hair is the same, though." Judith observes, eyeing me with a gaze that looks so much like Carl's did it hurts.

"Yeah." I chuckle, sniffling. "You used to wind your fingers up in it and I'm still brushin' out the knots."

"I thought the plan was to bring Henry." Tara blurts before anyone else can say anything, materializing to glare at Lydia. " _ Just  _ Henry."

"Tara." I murmur, watching Lydia's face fall.

"Gather up all the leaders." Michonne instructs. "We have a lot to talk about."

*Daryl's POV*

"I know I haven't always seen eye to eye with everyone in this room." Michonne says heavily, eyes flickering about the faces surrounding her.

We've gathered in the auditorium where we first met Ezekiel. This time, though, we're all on the stage and there are significantly fewer of us. Rick would've loved this whole fair thing. Adie would have too, once. She's more serious now, though. She's also too far away for my liking, standing between Gabe and Tara across from where I'm sitting. I know she's caught me looking at her more than once but I don't really give a shit. I spent years not looking at her and now I don't think I could look away if I wanted to.

"But I never stopped caring about any of you." Michonne continues. "I was just trying to protect my family and do right by my people. Alexandria's future is here. Together, with you. And we lost sight of that for a while. But… I'm here now. We're here now."

"I've taken an informal vote with the other council members at the fair, and we all agree." Gabe announces. "Alexandria is willing to grant asylum to Lydia. She's one of us now. We hope the rest of you can join us in doing the same."

"Thank you." Lydia says earnestly from her seat in the audience between Henry and Judith. "I'll do whatever I can to earn my keep and pay you back."

Tara and Adie exchange a glance, Tara's determined eyes boring into Adie's less certain ones.

"If Alpha retaliates," Adie starts, torn, casting an apologetic look at Lydia before turning her attention back to Michonne. "It'll be against Hilltop. I… I need to do what's best for my people."

"I thought we were on the same page." Tara nods, crossing her arms in front of her.

"We were." Michonne assures her. "And, look, when she came to my gates, I asked her to run away. And when she didn't, I was angry."

"Then you know why we're not okay with this." Tara says adamantly, speaking before Adie can even open her mouth.

"I do." Michonne nods. "I also know why Rick didn't trust me when I showed up at the gates of the prison. And how people didn't trust you after seeing you on the other side of the Governor's firing line."

Adie flinches, visibly stricken at the mention of the man who made her life hell, and I wish I could hold her. Make her feel safe again. Make the ghosts go away.

"I was gonna kill you on sight when you washed up on our shore." Rachel points out.

Tara glances at Adie pleadingly, but she's outnumbered on this one. Adie's mind changed somewhere between here and there, I guess. Or maybe she never really made up her mind in the first place.

"Okay." Tara deflates, backing off some. "Okay, fair."

"Lydia didn't choose where she came from." Michonne says softly. "But she chose where she wanted to be. Just like everybody in this room."

"Look." Adie sighs, raking a hand through her hair. "Daryl says there's more of her people out there, more than we knew about. I left some of my best fighters at home to hold down the fort, but… it won't be enough, not against them."

"We should take a group to Hilltop." I suggest. "To protect 'em. Just in case."

"It's a good idea." Carol agrees. "I'll take some from the Kingdom."

"Oceanside can spare some fighters." Rachel nods.

"Alexandria can, too." Gabe volunteers.

"So we head out in the morning?" Rachel questions.

"No." Adie shakes her head. "No, if we wait there might not be anything left. I don't know if they're watchin' us, but I would be and I'd move in while we're scattered. It'd be the smart thing."

"We should go today." Carol nods.

"Agreed." Gabe says. "But sending more people is only a short term solution."

"In order to face this threat, the four communities have to present a united front." Michonne announces. "Which is why I'm proposing a mutual protection pact. An attack against one community is an attack against all of us."

"Together, we can make these people think twice before moving against the Hilltop." Gabe adds, glancing at Adie.

She looks at Tara and shrugs, nodding her agreement.

"The leadership of the Kingdom is very amenable to this idea." Ezekiel agrees.

"Oceanside's down." Rachel grins.

"Okay, so how do we seal it?" Tara questions.

"Spit 'n shake." Adie says solemnly.

"Blood oath?" Tara chuckles, elbowing Adie in the side. "What?"

"I have just the thing." Ezekiel announces.

He whirls around, crossing to a metal display box side stage, retrieving a large piece of paper from within and returning to lay it flat on a table at center stage. Michonne's charter. The beginnings of new civilization. I wondered where the hell that went. I get to my feet. I ain't sure why, I'm not leading shit, but it feels like I should see this. We're writing history and I'm a part of it.

"What?" Michonne breathes, moving to get a better look at it. "How did you…"

"Witchcraft." Adie grins, waggling her eyebrows. "And a little bit of theft."

"I may have taken a few things with me when I left." Tara admits. "I did what I thought was right. I'm sorry for the way it went down."

"Me, too." Michonne murmurs. "And thank you. You were right."

"You were, too." Tara smiles.

"I knew this day would come." Ezekiel says confidently. "Never doubted it for a moment."

He produces a pen from his pocket, removing the cap with a flourish.

"John Hancock," He says happily, signing his name. "Eat your heart out."

He flips the charter around and passes the pen to Carol, who signs just beneath his name beside a bracket marked 'Kingdom'.

_ Queen Carol _

She admires her handiwork for a moment, then passes the pen off to Rachel, who, after signing, passes it off to Adie.

_ Adrienne _

She pauses for about half a second, pen hovering uncertainly above paper, probably no one even notices besides me, but she pauses and her eyes flicker up to mine before dropping back down to the charter.

_ Adrienne Dixon _

She finishes with a flourish, dragging the end of the 'n' to slash through the 'x', like she's been signing her name like this all her life, and passes the pen to Michonne. It's such a small thing. Just a name on a piece of paper. But it's her name with my name and I don't know why but something is swelling in my chest 'cause maybe we're still us. Maybe I didn't fuck up so bad we can't get back to being good.

"It should be the head of the council." Michonne says, shaking her head and offering the pen to Gabe.

He nods, taking the pen and scrawling his name next to the Alexandria bracket. Then it's done. I wonder if one day this thing's gonna be hanging in some museum somewhere, invoking reverence like the Constitution. Probably not. It's probably gonna be dust like the rest of us, but we were here. We were here.

*Adrienne's POV*

"I don't like this." Tara frets, walking a few of us who are leaving towards the gate.

"It's just a precaution." Kal soothes. "And you'll be coming tomorrow."

"Yeah, but maybe we should all go together." She protests. "Screw the fair."

"We can't just have this mass exodus." I snort, eyeing the people milling from booth to booth. "This has to be quiet, just for today. They need this."

"Too many people would notice if we all go at once." Dianne agrees. "Let them have this."

"Maybe you should stay." Tara suggests, her eyes sliding to mine. "People are gonna notice if you're gone, you're a leader."

"That's why I have to go." I point out. "I need to be there with our people if somethin' happens."

She nods, sullen.

"As much as I'd like to be here," I add with a rueful grin. "Eatin' my weight in candy apples 'n dunkin' Eugene in the tank."

"I'll be right back." Kal announces, wheeling around abruptly and disappearing somewhere among the booths.

"Okay." Tara agrees finally, eyeing Kal's retreating form. "I'll stay behind, hammer out the details of the mutual protection pact, and then I'll be right behind you."

"Thank you." I murmur, pulling her in for a hug. "I don't know how I'd do this without you."

"I don't either." She chuckles, rocking me side to side and squeezing. "You should give me a bonus."

"Is someone gettin' paid I don't know about?" I laugh, breaking away for a fist bump.

"Be safe." Tara grins.

"I will." I promise, continuing toward the group assembling at the gate. "You, too."

"Your apple, my lady." Kal announces, materializing at my side, candied apple in hand.

"You didn't have to do that." I chuckle, accepting the bright red, shiny treat with a grin.

"I know." He shrugs. "I wanted to. You should get to enjoy at least this part of the fair."

"What'd you trade for it?" I question, biting into the stickiest looking side, chewing and offering him a bite.

"My body." He quips, theatrically flexing his arms and winking.

"Shut up." I snort, pressing the apple against his mouth before he can refuse.

*Daryl's POV*

I ain't seen Adie smile like that in… years. It ain't quite like she used to look at me, but it's close enough there's something vicious and sick clawing at my guts watching her. Watching  _ Kal _ watching her. He thumbs away a bead of apple juice dribbling from the corner of her mouth, looking entirely too intimate for my liking, and I force my eyes away from them, glaring at the ground while my stomach flips and turns sour. I try to shake it off, focusing on giving Dog some extra head scratches and pats before I gotta leave him, but it's damn hard when I can still hear them, Adie's giggles tumbling from her lips and Kal just eating up every ounce of her attention.

I should've thought to get her something. A pair of boots appears at Dog's side and I straighten up, my stewing interrupted by Connie. She's got a note already written down and I lean in to read it.

_ Be safe _

"You, too." I nod.

She smiles at me, turning to walk away, but I guess after rescuing Henry together, we're friends and she's staying here and Dog likes her so maybe since we're friends it's okay to ask her a favor.

"Hey, uh…" I tap her shoulder and she turns, eyeing me expectantly. "Do you think you could, uh…" I point down at Dog, then pantomime spooning something into my mouth. "Feed my dog?"

She grins, nodding and clapping her hands, Dog barking delightedly and taking off after her. I wave, but it don't matter 'cause neither of 'em are looking. The King, Queen, and Prince are, though, heading my way.

"Thanks," Henry starts, nodding and shaking my hand. "For, um… keeping me out of trouble."

"Take care of your mom." I tell him, clapping him on the arm.

"Yeah." He promises, dipping his head.

"Thank you." Ezekiel says fervently. "When Hilltop is secure, know that our doors are always open to you. We'd be honored if you'd consider calling the Kingdom your home."

My eyes flicker towards the redhead now double and triple checking the saddle on her horse, Kal two steps behind her, the two of 'em still all smiles and laughs and easy familiarity, like this ain't new.

"I'll think about it." I nod when I manage to make my eyes slide back to the King, clapping Carol on the shoulder and practically sprinting away before she can say anything 'cause I know she didn't miss the way I was looking at Adie.

*Adrienne's POV*

I haven't been able to tear my eyes from the man on the bike for going on an hour now. God, I miss the bike. I miss the wind in my hair and the rumble and having my arms around something so solid... I miss the  _ man _ . One of his angel wings is missing now and I know things wear out, but it makes me more than a little sad. The man with the wings on his back is worn, too. Grayer.

"See something you like?" Carol blurts loudly, forcing my eyes to hers.

"Oh my god, Carol." I hiss, flushing and glancing furtively around, thankful at least that Daryl hadn't heard her over the roar of his engine.

"What?" She shrugs, swaying slightly in her saddle. "I'm just curious."

"Yeah." I scoff. "I'm sure."

"I  _ am. _ " She insists. "Have you two-"

"Carol." I warn, my eyes flickering to hers. "I'm not talkin' about this right now."

"Ezekiel asked him to consider staying at the Kingdom when this is all over."

"Okay?"

"He said he'd think about it."

He'll think about it. So he's not planning on coming back with me, then. Hilltop was just temporary. I knew that. I did. I knew he wasn't there for me.

"Adie, you have to tell him to stay at the Hilltop."

"No." I shake my head, ignoring the ache in my chest. "No, I don't. He makes his own choices."

"Does he know he has choices?" She questions, eyes burning a hole in the side of my head.

I can't answer that. I can't, because I'm still angry. He left me.

"I left you, too, once." She murmurs, as though my thoughts are somehow floating from my head into hers. "I left all of you and I wasn't ever going to come back."

"But you did come back." I point out.

"So did he."

*Daryl's POV*

"We were clearin' the roads." Ozzy explains. "Spotted tracks leadin' here."

We'd been on the road a couple hours when we came across him, Alek, and DJ about to head back to Kingdom 'cause they found something weird out here in this clearing. There's a wooden chest that looks like it was dropped, little wooden tokens spilled across the ground next to an overturned cart.

"It's from Hilltop." Magna says quietly, picking a token off the ground and passing it to Adie.

"Hilde makes these." She informs us. "She was supposed to be comin' to the fair, her and her husband were part of the third group leavin'."

"Dead didn't do this." Ozzy mutters. "People did."

"The skins?" Michonne questions. "You know about them?"

"We got the download." Ozzy confirms, nodding at Adie. "Strange times, strange ways to cope. Anyway… yeah, that'd be my guess. Anyone else was out here, my patrols would've seen 'em. Somethin' else… they put up a fight."

"Hey." I blurt, spotting a trail in the dead leaves on the ground. "Drug 'em out this way."

"Let's go." Kal suggests, already taking Adie by the elbow and leading her along.

"We can't all just go rushin' in there." I snap, glaring at his hand until he drops it.

"They could still be alive." Dianne points out.

"If those skin freaks followed them from Hilltop, the whole community is in danger right now." Marco says worriedly.

"So we split up." Michonne suggests.

"Adie, Michonne and I can go with Daryl." Carol agrees. "We'll track 'em. The rest of you, go on to Hilltop."

"Shouldn't Adie be coming with us?" Kal demands.

"No." Adie shakes her head. "No, if Hilde and Miles, the rest of 'em, if they're alive or hurt or bein' held somewhere, I have to get 'em."

"Adie-"

"I need to, Kal." She cuts his protest short. "You all go on, make sure home's okay. No one in or out after you, I mean at all. Lock it down until I get there, or Tara if she's there first."

"Okay." Kal says weakly, nodding. "Okay."

"We'll keep up our patrols around the Kingdom." Ozzy assures us, eyeing Carol. "Just in case. 'Course, this means you owe us a couple of movies when this is done."

"I'm sure I can work that out." Carol smiles.

-

Yumiko's tagging along with us. I ain't sure about her yet, but I like her more than Kal at least. I can't tell from how Adie's been acting if she and Kal have something going on or if it's just him, but he's definitely got a crush on her, I can tell that much and I hate it, I hate thinking of the possibility that maybe Adie got lonely while I was gone, maybe she needed someone and maybe Kal was there and maybe he was touching her and kissing her and heard them sounds that used to just be for me and-

"Daryl." Adie murmurs, her flashlight beam arcing through the darkness, landing on something on the ground at my feet.

A stick, half buried in the leaves and twigs littering the forest floor. I crouch down to examine it. One end is splintered, crimson stained and gleaming. I toss it aside, scanning the ground for anything else out of place, anything that could tell us what the hell happened here, but there's nothing.

"I don't know if there's a happy ending here." Carol says softly as I get to my feet, our group continuing to move deeper into the woods.

"There's somethin', though." Adie points out. "They're my people, I need to see it through."

"The trail…" I point. "Goes off in three different ways. Don't make sense."

No sooner than the words leaving my lips, twigs start snapping around us. We ain't alone out here.

"Come on." I urge, whirling around back the way we came. "Come on, head back. Let's go."

But it's too late to turn back now. There's two walkers, fresh ones, emerging from the trees, snarling and shambling right for us.

"They're from Hilltop." Yumiko announces, eyes flickering from Adie's devastated face to the walkers and back.

Yumiko and I fire at the same time, both walkers going down, arrows lodged in their skulls, just as several more show up from the opposite direction.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Watch their hands." Michonne instructs. "They could be skins."

These walkers are all real, though, and even though it's dark, even though we're tired, we can take 'em. Or at least we could, if there weren't suddenly dozens of them.

"Back to the road." Daryl orders. "Come on."

But we're blocked in, more walkers spewing forth from every direction. We can't run.

"Son of a bitch." I hiss, snatching my knife from my belt and hurling myself at the nearest walker.

It's a steady stream, pouring in five and six at a time, but we're used to this. We're seasoned and this is familiar and soon enough we're encircled by fallen corpses, the five of us back to back in the center, and it almost seems like it's over, like we can run, but then we hear them. The whispering. They're here, dozens of them, carefully stepping out from the shroud of the trees and surrounding us, and one of them… one of them is wearing Miles's face.

"Drop them."

A hulking giant of a man steps out of the crowd, towering a good head and shoulders above the next tallest person here.

"I won't ask twice."

Daryl freezes beside me, staring at the man like he's not quite sure how the hell he got here. So this is Beta. Their best fighter, Alpha's second in command. Daryl said he killed him, pushed him down an elevator shaft. Daryl's the first to obey, dropping his knives into the dirt. This is over. I drop my knife, listening to Carol, Michonne, and Yumiko follow suit, weapons falling from hands, hitting the earth with a series of dull thuds.

"You just had to give me the girl." Beta murmurs, coming to a stop just inches from Daryl, eyeing him through the holes in his mask. "No one else had to die. Now that deal is done."

-

"You ain't gettin' her back."

Daryl's glaring at the woman in front of us. He's not afraid, or if he is he's sure as hell not gonna let this bitch see it. Somehow, I don't think she gives a shit either way.

"You think this is about my daughter?" Alpha questions nonchalantly, then abruptly changes the subject. "I ran into some trouble on the road. It was unavoidable." She wipes her bloody blade on her pants, sheathing the weapon before continuing. "Do you like my new camp? My people like to keep movin', keep roamin'."

"One of our communities has granted Lydia asylum." I announce, Alpha blinking in surprise. "You should know, before you start somethin' you can't finish... if you try to take her by force, we will retaliate. You won't win."

"What's your name?" She questions, hands on her hips.

"Adrienne."

"Does  _ she _ speak for you?" She smirks, turning her gaze back to Daryl.

"We speak for each other." He says firmly.

Alpha nods, like either she's just had a moment of clarity or like that's exactly what she expected to hear, I'm not sure which.

"My daughter isn't a concern anymore." She proclaims after a moment. "She was  _ weak.  _ She never lived up to expectations."

"Was?" Daryl demands. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"To be clear…" Alpha murmurs, locking eyes with Daryl and producing a gun from her waistband, aiming it right at his chest. "Your group is in no position to threaten me. That is a habit that needs to be broken." She sniffs, taking a step closer to him. "Come with me." She orders quietly. "Just you."

No. No, no don't take him. I'm suddenly paralyzed with fear. I fully expected to be dying tonight, right alongside Carol, Daryl, Michonne, and Yumiko. But we're still alive and now she's taking just Daryl and I can't, I can't, I  _ can't  _ let her take him. He moves in the direction she'd indicated with the barrel of her gun and my heart falls through my rib cage, it's ghost beating viciously in my hollow chest. His eyes slide to mine and I shake my head but he just nods, his gaze boring into mine, and I know he's trying to tell me it's gonna be okay, but it's not, it's  _ not. _ All I can do is watch him disappear.

*Daryl's POV*

"Where you takin' me?" I demand just as the sun crests the horizon.

We've been walking for hours in silence, every attempt she'd made to engage me in conversation met with the same question until she quit, regressing to just prodding me along with her gun every so often. I guess we're here, though, 'cause there ain't nowhere left to go but straight off the steep cliffside she's led us to. I climb up onto a large outcropping of rock where forest turns into cliff, peering over the edge as the humming in the air swells into an ungodly roar. A herd, thousands of 'em, all milling about below us, bigger than any we've seen before, enough to wipe us all out.

"My people are among them." Alpha announces breathlessly. "Steerin' them. The only reason you and your friends are alive is because I let you live."

"What do you want?"

"Nothin'." She says. "You don't got a single thing to offer me. I've seen how you live. I've walked your streets. It's a joke. Your communities are a shrine to a long-dead world. My people, the Whisperers… we live as nature intended."

"That's just all the bullshit you feed your sheep," I spit. "So they'll follow you."

"They follow  _ me  _ because I am the Alpha."

"Hm." I grunt, unimpressed.

"Your Adrienne is not the Alpha and that is why she cannot lead her people." She continues, baring her teeth in a smile that don't reach any other part of her. "She doesn't assert herself, and if the Alpha doesn't assert herself, then there's chaos." She sniffs, glancing down into the pit of dead. "So that is what I've done."

I can't think of anything I want more in this moment than to shove her ass over the edge. I can't. I can't and she knows I can't. Assert herself…

"What'd you do?" I demand.

"Your friends back at the camp are fine." She assures me, her cold eyes flickering back to my face. "Tell them the next time they cross into my land, my horde will cross into theirs. The land between the broken interstates and the river to the  _ south... _ is mine. I've marked the border to the north. You'll see it as you leave."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"You'll see it as you leave." She repeats placidly. "Go. Your friends will be waiting for you in a field due north."

"Did you kill Lydia?" I question, stepping closer to her.

She's quiet for a moment and I ain't sure what that means. She don't feel nothin', she ain't human, but she's struggling to answer the damn question and it don't look like an act.

"I don't think you can protect my daughter." She says finally. "But I hope I'm wrong."

"You are."

*Adrienne's POV*

They didn't hurt us, not any of us. They gave our weapons back and dumped us in a field to wait for Daryl and I'm starting to think maybe that was just a cruel trick but then I see him, I  _ see  _ him. I snatch his crossbow from the ground beside me and practically fly across the field to get to him, hurling myself at his chest.

"You hurt?" He grunts, his arms wrapping around me like it's still just instinct.

"I'm fine." I murmur against his neck, breathing him in for just a second before releasing him. "Are you?"

"Mhmm." He dips his head, taking the bow from my hands just before Carol and Michonne reach us.

I don't think any of us truly thought we'd see him again, alive and in one piece, and he receives hugs from both women while I retrieve his knives from my waistband. He nods appreciatively, tucking them back into the sheaths on his belt before filling us all in on Alpha's ultimatum. She's not leaving. She's claimed the land all around us, boxing our communities in. If we cross into her land, she'll send a herd into ours. Thousands, Daryl says. Apparently she's  _ 'marked' _ her northern border, whatever the hell that means, so we're heading north to find out exactly how much land she's just arbitrarily decided belongs to her, when we come across a man, gagged and bound to a tree.

"Is that-"

"Siddiq!" Michonne cries, rushing forward and dropping to her knees beside him, pulling the gag from his mouth and cutting the ropes from his wrists. "What happened?"

She pulls him to his feet, but he's trembling, stumbling, stuttering… there's blood all down his face, seeping from a wound on his forehead. Before he can choke anything out, though, I see them. Ten wooden pikes, staked into the ground at the top of the hill ahead, and…

"No." I breathe, breaking into a run, reaching the top just seconds before the others.

The heads are moving, jaws gnashing, milky white eyes staring unseeingly ahead at nothing. My eyes flicker from one familiar face to the next, my vision blurring as I struggle to process what I'm seeing. Ozzy. Alek. DJ. Frankie. Tammy Rose. Rodney. Addy. Enid. Tara. And…

"Daryl." I choke, lurching forward in an attempt to block the tenth pike. "Daryl, don't let her-"

"No!" Daryl hollers, tearing towards Carol, grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her away. "No! Just look at me. Just look at me."

I fold over, sinking to my knees, a sob tearing itself from my throat as I pull my knife from my belt, gripping it hard in my hand. I can't look away, my eyes ping ponging from face to face, desperately hoping against hope this isn't real because I can't, I can't do it, I can't, but I have to. It has to be me. It can't be Carol. I straighten up, swallowing the bile rising in my throat, and walk toward the pike, feeling more disconnected from my body with each step, blood roaring in my ears, vision swimming. I round the pike, place my hand on top of Henry's head and, as gently as I can, thrust my blade upward through the back of his skull.


	13. A Rock In the Road

**Chapter 13**

*Daryl's POV*

"I was there."

We're back at Kingdom. Siddiq's telling everybody what happened, what he witnessed, all of us gathered around the stage Ezekiel had his people build for the fair. Adie's got this look on her face like she ain't even here, like she's just blank, and her arms are wrapped around her body like she's gonna come apart if she don't physically hold herself together, but she's still shaking and I'm staying close 'cause I keep thinking she's gonna fall again. She put him down, and Tara and Enid and Tammy, and them two kids from Hilltop, and then she fell, couldn't take another step, couldn't keep going. Yumiko did the rest and it's like we were frozen there until Michonne moved, pulled Adie to her feet. We came back because what else were we supposed to do?

"I was taken with the others," Siddiq continues. "And I saw… I was supposed to die with them. I was ready to. Then Alpha whispered in my ear, 'tell them'. Something hit me and everything went black. And when I woke up, I was alone. What happened was  _ evil.  _ It was evil. And I think she left me alive to tell you that story. To scare you and to drive us all apart again," he shakes his head, eyes welling with tears. "But I wanna tell you a different story. See, before the end… Ozzie, Alek, and DJ found us… and they gave us an opening, and…  _ everyone fought back.  _ They fought like hell. And what they did… was more than brave. 'Cause they defended each other. And they sacrificed for each other and some of them…" he sobs. "They didn't even  _ know  _ each other, but they still  _ fought _ like they did. Like they were family. Til the very end. And, uh… and in the end, they… their  _ time  _ was cut short, but ours keeps going. So we  _ have  _ to keep going. For them and… for  _ all  _ of us. We need to  _ honor _ them. We need to honor them and we need to remember these friends, our  _ family…  _ died as heroes. That's The story that I wanna tell you, I…" he pauses, nodding. "That's the story I want us all to remember."

-

I can't sleep. I know I need to, I know I'm exhausted, but I just… I don't want to close my eyes and see them heads again. I ain't sure what the hell to do or how we're gonna live with this, where we're gonna go from here. Carol's numb. After Siddiq's story, she shut herself in her room and ain't come out again. I think I'm gonna go back to Alexandria, keep an eye on Lydia. It's starting already, the us against them thing. Only us is everybody and them is just her. This ain't her fault.

"Daryl?"

My head snaps up from the pillows, eyes landing on Adie's silhouette in the doorway of my borrowed room. She's quiet for a moment, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and I can tell she's crying from the way her breaths are all short and sharp.

"You all right?"

"Can I come in?"

We speak at the same time and she chuckles quietly, folding her arms over herself and crossing the room, sinking down on the end of the bed. I swing my legs over the side and twist, scooting to be next to her, just next to her, not touching her, but close enough I can feel warmth in the space between her leg and mine.

"Where's Dog?" She questions, sniffling and dragging the back of her hand across her eyes.

"Oh, he's with Connie," I inform her and she nods. "She offered to watch him so I could sleep, but…"

"You can't?"

"Nah."

"Me either." 

It's quiet again, but it's bursting at the seams, loaded like a pressure cooker filled with all the shit we ain't saying. Quiet used to be so easy for us.

"Remember," she murmurs eventually. "Remember the first time we came here, when… when we met Ezekiel and Rick told that story about a rock in the road?"

"Yeah," I nod. "I do."

"You ever feel like we're still diggin' at that same god damn rock?"

Fuck, every day. Every day I feel that. All we do is fight, it's never over and if it's over it's 'cause you're dead.

"It just feels…" she sighs, scuffing the floor with the toe of her boot. "It feels like we've been fightin' too long to still be fightin', like… like things oughta just…"

She trails off, letting her voice fade into nothing, and goes still, tears welling and falling from her eyes, leaving little silvery lines down her cheeks. I ain't sure what she wants me to say or if she wants me to say anything at all, so I just wait.

"I didn't think I was ever gonna see you again," she breathes, voice breaking, twisting the ring I gave her a lifetime ago around and around on her finger. "And I was pissed at you. For leavin'. And then I was pissed at you for comin' back," she laughs sadly, her eyes sliding to mine. "I thought… I thought I was okay, and I  _ was, _ I was startin' to be okay with bein' alone, I was… I was gonna be okay. But you came back and-" her voice cracks again and she falters, choking on a sob. "And I'm not okay, Daryl, because I can't… when she took you away, I thought that was it and I'd never… but it wasn't and you came back again and I'm not…"

I brace myself, sure I know what happens next, sure this is it, sure that when her mouth opens again it'll be to tell me it's too late, that we're too broken to fix, that she wants me to leave again.

"I'm not pissed anymore," she says quietly. "And I'm not okay because… I don't ever wanna watch you leave again and I'm so  _ afraid… _ "

It's like my brain is three or four words behind, like I'm hearing shit delayed, and I'm trying to catch up, I'm trying to process, but I'm too slow, I'm too fucking slow and I can see it in her face, in the way her shoulders are tensing up, her eyes dropping to her hands, and I need to  _ say  _ something, but I don't know what would be enough, I don't know the words, I only know one thing and-

"I ain't leavin'," I blurt, my voice coming out louder than I thought it was gonna, the three words just hanging in the air, just floating into nothing, and I feel like I did when I was a kid, like I'm counting out the quarters and dimes I found in the parking lot, sure there's one more than I got in my hand, but I'm short, I'm just short and the checker's looking at me and the bag boy is looking at me and the people in line with lots of money and no time are looking at me and I get this feeling like I should run away.

But it's Adie looking at me. It's Adie and she's  _ it,  _ she always was, I was always gonna love her no matter what, I was gonna  _ find _ her 'cause she's forever and I meant that and I still do. She's looking at me like quarters and dimes don't matter and she's got all the time in the world and if we're broken, she's got a hammer and I got some nails and we ain't too broken to fix. She's still forever and I wish I could tell her all that, but my throat is dry and my tongue feels like it's stuck to itself and I'm afraid if I try to make more words come out, my heart's gonna climb up my throat and crawl out of my mouth but maybe that would be okay 'cause anything would be better than just silence.

Before I can unstick my tongue, her lips are on mine and her hands tangling in my hair and I ain't sure if the tears on my cheeks are mine or hers but  _ fuck,  _ it feels like home to me, like I'm finally home again and I'm not leaving her ever. She breaks the kiss, pressing her forehead against mine. I don't know how long we stay like that, but it ain't been enough time when she pulls away.

"I should-"

"Stay."

She hesitates only a moment before kicking her boots off and crawling into bed beside me, her body curling against mine, one hand resting on my chest, and I know we're grieving, but I feel like some of my empty spaces are full again and eventually her hand grows heavy, her chest rising and falling with those same steady breaths I used to count like sheep, and I can rest now.

*Adrienne's POV*

**Three months later**

Winter's here and the Kingdom has fallen with the snow. Bursting pipes and roaring fires have destroyed most of their buildings, leaving many of their occupants displaced. There just isn't time to repair all the damage before the truly bitter cold sets in. Hilltop has more than enough room to spare, even if it'll be a little tighter quarters than they're used to, and we can get by on our winter rations if we're careful. I say we, but really it's more of a they thing, now. I'm at Alexandria more often than not anymore and Hilltop's leadership has evolved into a council because of that. I tried to lead them, I did, but… I wanted to be where Daryl was. 

After a third trip to Alexandria and back, a council was formed to make decisions in my absence and my trips got longer and longer and eventually stopped being trips. I stepped down, abdicating to the council, and now Yumiko seems to be running things. She's here, she and Magna and Alden, to help move the Kingdom to Hilltop for the winter. Michonne, Daryl, Aaron, Lydia and I came from Alexandria for the same reason.

It took a bit to get everybody packed up and situated, but we're on the move, all of us, atop horses, huddled together in wagons, and a fair few on their own two feet. The skins won't come after a group this big, if they're even still around. We haven't seen any of 'em since the first frost, but after seeing what they're capable of, what Alpha will do to prove a point… we can't risk crossing into her land. That horde of hers is the closest thing to a nuclear weapon in existence anymore. They could wipe us out ten times over. So we'll play it her way. For now.

"No one can agree on what to do next," Michonne is saying. "And the Council cannot come to any security resolutions?"

"Everyone's still reeling," Yumiko points out. "Between Jesus, Tara, and the others we lost…" she trails off, sharp eyes flickering to my face. "This one jumping ship."

"She didn't jump ship," Michonne chuckles, bumping her elbow against mine. "She just came home."

I flash her an appreciative grin, unable to help my eyes from straying to Daryl. I'm surprised to find his gaze on me, and more surprised when he offers me a crooked little smile. I'm grateful for the cold now, for the flush in my cheeks and rosy nose, because blushing really doesn't make a difference. Home. That's what it's starting to feel like again. It's not like it used to be, it's not like the hurt or the fear just went away, but it's almost like it was in the very beginning when I was afraid to touch him and he was afraid to let me. It feels like starting again, like remembering and second chances.

*Daryl's POV*

She looks like a goddamn marshmallow, all bundled up like she is. I'll never get tired of looking at her. I don't touch her, not a lot. Not yet. I ain't sure why, I just… it don't feel like I deserve it, what I put her through. I ain't been close to her since the night before we left the Kingdom, when she went to Hilltop and I went to Alexandria and she promised she'd see me soon and I promised I'd be there. That was three months ago. She used to only stay for a couple days at a time, but the last time she came down from Hilltop, Kal and Marco left without her. That was a week and a half ago. 

"And still nothing from Maggie?" Michonne questions.

"The Council sent another letter, but…" Yumiko sighs. "We haven't heard anything back."

"Well…"

Whatever security solutions or Maggie advice Michonne's about to offer is cut short when we all spot a group of maybe walkers, maybe skins shambling about the field next to our caravan, a chorus of worried whispers rising up from our people.

"Just keep movin'," Adie murmurs, squinting at the walkers.

"Is that them?" Alden demands from his saddle, glaring down at Lydia with disdain. "People watchin' us now, huh? Well, we followed their rules. Haven't they done enough to us?"

"Hey," I bark. "Why don't you lay off?"

He lost his girl. I get it. But it ain't Lydia's fault. You don't pick where you come from, you pick where you go. Lydia chose to be with us. Ain't a lot of people accepting that yet. She's spent most of her free time with me or Adie, but if she ain't with one of us she's usually alone.

"You don't have to protect me," she mutters. "I know how they feel about me."

"Well, don't mean they get to talk to you like that," I point out.

"Just… I don't wanna cause any more problems."

"It's their problem, not yours."

She seems to accept that, or at least she don't disagree out loud, choosing instead to drift closer to Adie's side. Adie's still got that thing, that weird pull to her. It's like magnets. Don't matter who you are, you can talk to Adie or you can  _ not  _ talk to Adie. Maybe it's just 'cause she looks like warm feels, like sunflowers and cinnamon gum. Still, even she can't stop it snowing, the sky growing darker and the air growing colder by the second.

-

Carol's staring. Lydia keeps catching it, too, and I know it just makes her feel guiltier for what ain't her fault.

"Henry wanted her here," I murmur, falling into step beside Carol. "When no one else did. She's a good kid."

"Every time I look at her, all I see is him."

That ain't fair. Lydia's just as much a victim in all this as anyone else, she just happens to be alive when Henry ain't. Hell, it might be  _ because  _ of Henry she's alive. Him chasing her down is what started all this. When I look at Lydia, I see me. I see me and Merle and Adie and I see Carol, too. But Adie ain't her dad and I ain't my dad and Carol ain't Ed. Lydia's not her mom. Maybe that's not what's wrong, though. Maybe when Carol looks at me, she sees wilted Cherokee roses and fire and the shadow of a little girl I couldn't find for her.

"Who do you see when you look at me?"

"I see you," she assures me, looping her hand through my elbow.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Hey, boss?"

Something in Jerry's tone captures my attention, his normal cheeriness laced with something resembling alarm, taking my mind off of the ache in my freezing bones. But only for a second.

"Barometer's taking a nosedive," he announces, eyeing the heavy grey sky with concern. "We've got a  _ mother  _ of a storm coming."

"We'll have to travel through the night if we have any hope of making it to the next way station before it hits," Ezekiel says ominously.

The violence the end of the world has brought on seems to encompass winters now, too, each one a little colder and a little longer than the last. I used to love snow. I loved the way it glitters in the light, the way it makes the air smell crisp and clean, I loved how it made buildings look like gingerbread houses. Now it's just wet, white bullshit. Still, it slows the real walkers down some. That's a plus. It doesn't stop them completely, though, a fact of which I'm reminded when we come across what appears to be the tracks of a relatively large herd. There are still some stragglers, but only two. Carol and Daryl are on it, two arrows winging through the air and piercing through dead flesh before anyone else has moved.

"Keep going," Ezekiel orders when Carol moves to follow Daryl to retrieve their arrows. "We'll catch up."

There's something weird about that, but I don't know, maybe he just needs to talk some secret shit over with Daryl. I know he and Carol have been drifting apart since Henry and the Kingdom crumbling around them probably didn't help, and the more they drift, the more Carol leans on Daryl. I think it bothers Ezekiel.

"Come on," I murmur, looping my arm through Carol's, the two of us falling back into step with our people.

We continue trudging along through the snow, and we've made it several yards closer to the way station without Daryl and Ezekiel before I realize we're missing someone else.

"Where's Lydia?"

*Daryl's POV*

These are just regular walkers. I checked both of 'em for masks before pulling mine and Carol's arrows out while Ezekiel just watched. I can hear something in the silence, though, like he's got some shit to say to me but don't know how to start or something.

"You given much thought to your plans after this?" He questions eventually.

"No," I murmur. "Uh-uh. Why?"

That ain't entirely true. I'm planning on ending up wherever Adie does, but I'm sure the King's got a reason for asking and I wanna know what it is.

"The past few months have been difficult for Carol and I," he admits. "I'm hopin' for a fresh start with her at Hilltop… and it'd be easier if it was just us."

"You think that's what Carol wants?" I blurt unthinkingly, Ezekiel's eyes narrowing.

"Carol wants the same thing I do," he says adamantly. "To hold our son again."

I don't think he knows what Carol wants. I don't think he's bothered to ask her. I can't imagine what they're going through, not really. Adie wasn't okay for a long time after losing the baby and I didn't know what she wanted, I just knew I'd give her anything I could. I never just assumed I knew what she needed. I don't think he's coming to me for advice though and I don't like the way he's looking at me, neither, so I ain't gonna tell him any of that.

"Shit," he mutters, shaking his head. "I'm not tryin' to be the bad guy here, man. I just wanna get back a piece of what I lost. What we lost. After everything, you… you think you could give me that?"

I scoff quietly and head back to the road. I ain't after Carol. It was never like that with us and I don't like what he's implying. He don't know Carol like I do, or like Adie does for that matter. We're the only ones left from those first days back at the quarry, back before things really got hard. It's a different kind of bond. Feels like we've been through lifetimes together. All he's gotta do is just ask Carol what she wants. If he loves her like he should, he'll do that much.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Lydia."

She'd wandered off when we were distracted, made her way to a small pond hidden among the evergreens and skeletal birches on the other side of the road. She's kneeling before a walker frozen inside the pond, just a head and shoulders above the ice, jaws snapping frantically a whisper away from the girl's exposed wrist. She was gonna commit suicide by walker. Her eyes snap up to meet mine, wide and not even a little guilty. She wanted this and I remember when I did, too. I remember thinking of death and feeling relief.

Her eyes are darting back and forth between my face and Carol's and I know she's thinking about letting herself get bitten anyway because she knows she could make it happen before I can get to her, but after a moment she slips her glove back on and gets to her feet, her gaze dropping to the ground. I want to tell Lydia it's okay, that it wasn't her fault, but it's not my forgiveness she needs. Carol says nothing, the three of us remaining silent the whole way back to the road.

"Weather's already kickin' in," Jerry announces, and it is.

The wind is whipping through the air, snow swirling down from the sky, and it's only gonna get worse. Daryl catches my eye, raising a questioning eyebrow and nodding at Lydia, whose own eyes are still on the ground.

"Later," I mouth, shaking my head.

"Even if we hauled ass overnight," Jerry continues. "We'd never make it."

"We need to get off the roads," Aaron says. "Find shelter between here and the next way station."

I wrack my brain for ideas, trying to think of any place big enough to house a group this size, but there's-

Oh, damn it, no.

"You have a place in mind?" Ezekiel questions.

My eyes flicker from Daryl's to Michonne's and I know they've come to the same conclusion.

"Yeah," Michonne mutters.

*Daryl's POV*

"People actually lived here?" Magna demands, disgusted, her flashlight arcing around the room, illuminating the mess.

It don't look much different, not really. Not to me. It's the same shithole, just now it's an empty, trash filled shithole. The flies and the corpses are new. It's satisfying, in a way. Negan's not dead, but his empire is and that's almost as good.

"Yup," Adie sighs, glaring around the place with disdain.

"Welcome to the Sanctuary," Michonne murmurs.

"Alrighty, then," Adie mutters, resigned.

-

It don't take too long before people are settled for the night, huddled around tiny fires or piled into the wagons for warmth. This shithole might come through for us after all. Adie's thrown herself into making damn sure the fires never go out. She's made trip after trip up the stairs, through the hallways where we used to live, and back with whatever furniture she can find to burn. Bed frames, chair legs, night stands, even a coat rack. I wish she'd sit still, but she told me once she moves so she don't have to think.

Carol, on the other hand, ain't moving at all. She's lost in her head and I know Ezekiel wants me to stay away but that's tough shit for him. Carol's my best friend, I ain't gonna let her just suffer alone. I take a seat beside her on the old, rusted metal stairs she's been perched on for the last thirty minutes, offering her my canteen. She shakes her head without looking, but I know better than to force her.

"You okay?" I question, taking a sip, swishing the icy water around in my mouth before swallowing.

"Mhmm," she nods. "Yeah."

"We're gonna make it," I assure her. "All right? We will."

"Yeah."

She's quiet and I don't believe she's okay, not for one second, but if she wants to talk about it she will.

"Somethin' happened back there with you and Ezekiel?"

"No."

She's quiet again and it's her turn to not believe me for a second.

"He only blames you because he can't let himself blame me," she says flatly. "I feel like I'm losing myself again. I'm really trying to hang on," her voice breaks, tears spilling down her cheeks. "But I don't… I don't know what I'm doing."

She sighs, bringing her mittened fingertips to her face and sponging up the tears that just keep coming and I'd do anything to make it okay again.

"I could take her away from here," I suggest. "I can keep her safe on my own."

"You wanna go?" She questions, her eyes flickering to mine.

"No."

I don't. I don't wanna leave her again and I don't wanna leave Adie, not now, not when it feels like maybe me and her are gonna be okay one day. If I go again, I don't think we could come back from that, I don't think she'd ever… and she'd want to come with me, I know she would, but I can't take her away from our people. I can't do that to her. She needs them and they need her.

"No, I don't," I mutter. "What do you want me to do?"

She don't answer 'cause maybe she don't know. I don't know either.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Lydia," I murmur, startling her.

She's all alone again, hiding from the people and the warmth under the stairs Carol and Daryl are currently huddled on. I'm sure she was looking for Daryl and stayed to listen when she found him with Carol. She looks afraid, like I'm gonna yell at her.

"Help me?" I question, motioning her over with a tilt of my head.

"Yeah," she says softly, not quite meeting my eyes. "Sure."

She follows me into what used to be the residential part of Sanctuary, quietly trailing along behind me. I lead her down the hallway and into the room at the very end, the only one in this hall I haven't ransacked yet. Sanctuary fell not too long after the bridge. Everything fell apart. Most of the Saviors left in search of greener pastures, but a lot of them joined Hilltop and Alexandria. This place has been empty for years.

"You used to live here or somethin'?" Lydia questions curiously, looking around the room.

"A long time ago," I nod, leaning against the wall and giving the room a cursory once over.

Most of the furniture is still here, still in good condition. People fled this place with what they could carry and never looked back.

"Daryl did, too," I tell her as she sinks down on top of the nightstand beside the bed. "He ran this place."

She nods, crossing her arms protectively in front of her.

"Before we lived here," I continue. "We lived in Alexandria, and before that we lived in a prison in Georgia."

She glances up, surprised.

"It was better than you'd think," I chuckle. "We fixed it up. It was secure. We had land, a few pigs, some chickens-"

"Why are you tellin' me?" She blurts, reddening and dropping her eyes to the floor. "Sorry."

"I'm tellin' you this because I think you need to know what happened to that place," I murmur. "There was a town nearby called Woodbury run by a man they called the Governor and he was a sick son of a bitch. We fought him and we won and we thought…" her eyes flicker to mine, brows knitting in confusion at the quaver in my voice. "We thought he was gone. We tracked him for a while, but the trail went cold. Then one day he came back and he had an army with him, people he'd convinced we were bad people, and uh… he had this tank."

" _ Tank? _ "

"I know it sounds like bullshit, but it's true," I insist, drawing an 'x' over my heart. "Daryl was there. Michonne, too. Anyway, he had a tank and he wanted us dead. The prison was only secure 'cause we had fences all around the yard, but…"

"But he had a tank."

"Yeah."

"So what'd you do?"

"We fought him," I sigh. "But it didn't matter 'cause when the fight was over, the fences were down and the walls were full of holes and we ran. A lot of us… a lot of us didn't make it, you know? We were all separated from each other, not sure who else was left, if  _ anyone _ was left… but we made it back to each other eventually and we found a new place and another new place after that, we just kept going, all of us together."

"That's… nice," she says uncertainly.

"Well, the point is, why I wanted to tell you," I swallow, gathering myself before continuing. "The Governor was my dad."

She's silent, sharp eyes on mine, and I'm not sure she believes me until her gaze softens and she nods. I'm not gonna tell her all of it. I'm not gonna tell her about Hershel or the dead half sister I never met or what my dad did to me. I'm not gonna tell her I killed him.

"You can't choose who you're born to," I tell her firmly. "And what your mom does isn't your fault, Lydia. I know it feels like it is, but it isn't," I push off the wall, rubbing my hands together before grabbing hold of a small bookshelf, tipping the contents onto the floor. "Grab that nightstand for me?"

*Daryl's POV*

"The next way station is here," Michonne announces, tapping the map we're all gathered around. "Right across the river that runs alongside the old route B."

The storm's only getting worse, dumping down snow like I ain't never seen before. Winter's never hit this hard this early and if we stay here, we could get snowed in. We ain't got the supplies for that, not here.

"I thought the only crossing was back along the road we were on," Magna mutters.

"It is," Aaron confirms, squinting at the map. "There's no way we'll make it, not in these conditions. Rick's bridge would've saved us. It could've cut half a day off our travel time."

"But we don't need a bridge," Carol points out, rounding Ezekiel to stand between Aaron and Michonne. "Creeks and ponds are frozen over. As long as we don't all go at once, we could probably just walk across," she jabs a finger at the map. "There, through our old hunting grounds. It's a straight shot."

"A straight shot through Alpha's territory," Ezekiel snaps.

"We didn't agree to those borders," Carol says sharply. "Those borders are  _ hers, _ not ours."

"That's cold comfort if we trigger a war," Ezekiel counters as she shuffles back to his side. "We don't even know how to fight them yet."

"It's only a couple miles," she insists.

"So we leave now, at night," Adie pipes up from beside me, slightly muffled by the scarf wound around the bottom half of her face. "The dark, the snow…"

"They won't know that we're there," Michonne agrees.

"What if they already know?" Yumiko questions. "They could've been watching us in that field back there."

"That's all the more reason to move now," I point out.

"We can do this," Aaron nods.

"With the elderly?" Ezekiel demands. "With the children? We can't take horses and wagons across the ice."

"Then we'll have to go by foot," Michonne says, met with Ezekiel's frustrated sigh. "Yes, it's risky, but we're only carrying enough food to last us another day or two, and this storm could dump enough snow to make these roads impassable for  _ weeks. _ It's either we make it to the next way station or we die."


	14. I Accept Your Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains smut

**Chapter 14**

*Adrienne's POV*

This is not beautiful snow. This is not Thomas Kinkade, snow globes, or Central Park on a Christmas card. This is shit. This is walking through TV static, the bitter chill bone deep. Crossing Alpha's border means passing the pikes, now headless, a monument to our dead and a reminder that we are not free. But we're alive and that's something. It's enough, just until we figure out how to fight them. Just for now. So we keep moving, a slow march towards the river. Our slow march is halted, however, when Ezekiel raises a fist in the air, signalling a stop.

Visibility is next to nothing, but I can see them, the vague outlines of walkers just ahead, white washed and still. Daryl raises his bow, firing into one of the figures, and it falls to the ground, but none of them are moving. They're not really even growling. They're frozen. Carol, Daryl, Ezekiel, Michonne, and I move forward cautiously, the walkers coming into focus as we draw near. I've never seen them freeze completely over like this. I don't like it. Makes me feel like it's just a matter of time before we're all dead and stuck to the ground. Michonne's katana slices through the air, lopping off the heads of the two Daryl didn't take out, and we keep moving, keep going. That's who we are.

"There's the river," Ezekiel announces, exhausted, and relief floods my body. "We made it."

"I'm gon' check the ice," Daryl volunteers, moving before anyone, namely me, can argue.

"Right behind you," I murmur, following him towards the snow slick stones embedded in the river bank.

I take his hand in mine while he carefully sidesteps his way down the rocks, ready to pull his ass back up if the ice shows any sign of giving.

"Yeah," he mutters, planting his left foot onto the ice, testing his weight. "I think we're good."

He looks at me expectantly and it takes me a moment to realize I still have his fingers in a vice grip.

"Sorry," I murmur, releasing his hand.

"We have to assume they have eyes on the borders," Ezekiel cautions. "Make sure the others are ready to go."

"Done and done," Jerry says breathlessly, turning to alert those at the back of the group.

"Hey, where's Lydia?" Daryl demands, eyeing the spot where she'd been standing thirty seconds ago.

"I'm gonna go find her," Carol says. "You get everyone across."

"I'll come wi-"

"I'll be right back," she promises, motioning for me to stay put.

"All right," Ezekiel nods. "Let's move."

"Hey!" Michonne cries, pointing at something just behind Daryl.

A walker, crawling out of the snow. But it's not the only one. Several of them had been buried under our feet, heads and rotted limbs popping out of the snow, clawing and snapping.

"Move!" Michonne orders.

She, Daryl, and I man the banks, thrusting blades into frozen skulls while Ezekiel and Alden shepherd our people across the ice, and it's working. No one's panicking yet, they're all moving onto the ice one at a time and single filing across to the other side, but all the noise has drawn more walkers and it's impossible to tell through the snow if they're real walkers or skins pretending.

"Is it them?" Alden demands.

"No," Michonne replies. "Not here. Not in this."

But I'm not convinced. I'm not convinced and at some point in the last two minutes, I've lost sight of Daryl.

"Get them across," Ezekiel barks. "We'll hold 'em back."

"All right," I nod breathlessly, taking hold of the first hand I see. "All right. C'mon, easy, let's go."

*Daryl's POV*

I ain't sure how the fuck, but somehow in the bullshit I've ended up over by the ruins of the old bridge, several yards away from everyone else. There's only one walker left over here, though, and I'm gonna take it out before I work my way back to the group. It's shambling towards me, walking all disjointed 'cause of the cold, and it'll be an easy kill. At least, that's what I think until two rotted hands shoot out if the snow near my feet, frozen fingers curling around my leg. I yank myself free and swing my bow at the corpse's head, but by the time I've taken it out the other walker is on me and I slip, dropping my bow and tumbling to the ground.

The cold slows 'em down, but they're still stronger than they should be, all dead weight and no higher reasoning to hold 'em back, and it's a struggle trying to get this damn thing off of me. I can't get to my knives, the crossbow's too far away, but there's icicles, some of 'em a foot and a half long, lining the edge of the bridge ruins like teeth. I reach for the longest one, stretching my fingertips as far as they'll go, but it ain't fair enough. I grab hold of the thrashing walker and roll over, slamming it onto the ground as I rise on my knees and break the icicle from the bridge. I jam it into the walker's eye socket, relief coursing through my veins when it quits moving. I ain't dying, not today.

-

It's light outside by the time we finally roll up to Hilltop, toes numb and teeth chattering, but we made it, all of us. Before Adie's even passed all the way through the gates, Kal is on her. I wish it didn't piss me off. I wish I was too tired to give a shit that he's wrapping her up in his arms like that's where she's supposed to be. I wish that even though I got more important shit to worry about I wasn't feeling sick inside 'cause Adie's hugging him back, grinning and laughing.

"I'm glad you're back," Kal tells her. "It's been boring without you around."

"What, you mean you can't find anyone else to play Jenga with you?" She chuckles, punching him affectionately in the arm.

" _ Or  _ Scrabble," Kal pouts.

"That's 'cause last time we played Scrabble, you hid all the vowels."

"No, I hid  _ most  _ of the vowels."

"All but two each!"

"Yeah, for the ultimate challenge."

"You know what I think?" Adie arches an eyebrow.

"What?"

"I think you hid 'em 'cause you thought you'd have a shot at winnin' that way."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And I  _ still _ kicked your ass."

"Only 'cause you started the game with three vowels," Kal counters. "Luck of the draw."

"Bullshit," she cackles. "I don't need luck, I have  _ skills. _ "

"I'll bet you have all kinds of skills."

Adie's face goes slack and Kal reddens like he didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Uh, I better get back on watch," he stammers, walking away without another word, and it's all I can do not to follow him, kick his nuts up into his throat.

I don't, though. I just shoulder past Adie and into the house. It's too fucking cold for this shit.

*Adrienne's POV*

Jesus told me once Kal had feelings for me. I never actually believed him and it didn't matter anyway because I still loved Daryl, it's always just been him. It didn't matter if he never came back, I couldn't stomach the idea of being with anyone else. I wish I could say I never thought about it, about letting someone make me forget Daryl for just a little while, but I did. I thought about it. But I couldn't ever go  _ through _ with it, even thinking about it made me feel sick with guilt. And I don't think anyone could've made me forget.

I wonder, though, if Daryl ever… but he was alone in the woods all that time, who the hell would he have slept with? God, this is fucking idiotic. I have other shit to worry about and so much to be grateful for. We got Kingdom here. No one died, no one's cold, no one's starving. Why can't I focus on that? Why isn't that enough? Why am I suddenly so damn nervous when Daryl joins us in Maggie's old office, arms heaping with a second load of firewood, eyes for everyone but me?

"It's like our new Kingdom," Jerry announces to those of us huddled around the fireplace. "Only it's Hilltop. Hey, if we call it Kingtop, maybe we could make that a thing."

"Kingtop," I chuckle, getting to my feet. "I like it."

Jerry flashes me an appreciative grin and I make my way across the room, heading towards the door.

"Where you goin'?"

Daryl's staring at me from beside the fire, eyes narrowed.

"Bed?"

I'm not sure why it came out like a question, but the way he's looking at me… I feel like I'm in trouble, like I'm being chastised, and I don't know what the hell I did to deserve it. His eyes drop back to the fire and I leave the room, a chorus of 'night, Adie' following me out the door. I make my way down the hallway into my old bedroom and flop onto the bed with a heavy sigh. This part feels like it used to, too. The confusion, not knowing where I stand with him or what I did to piss him off. It's familiar. I hate it and I hate that I have this urge to march back to that office and ask Daryl what the fuck his problem is or maybe just grab him by the jacket and yank him back here with me because  _ fuck,  _ I am tired of walking on eggshells and sleeping alone.

I've almost convinced myself to go get him when there's a tentative knock at my door.

*Daryl's POV*

I ain't been able to shake the idea of Kal's hands all over Adie, the image of her fingers sliding through his hair, her body arching beneath his, and it ain't like I got the right to be pissed, but I am. It's none of my business what she did while I was gone. She didn't think I was ever coming back and I didn't think I was either, I couldn't. But thinking about her with anyone's hands on her but mine… maybe it only bothers me so much 'cause I'm fucking exhausted. Maybe it'll feel okay again in the morning when we leave, me and Adie and the others. She's been staying where I stay and I know it's not gonna be like it was overnight, I know that. I just miss her. 

I spot Lydia standing alone, away from the group, staring up at the paintings on the wall behind Maggie's desk. Ann made them for her. Her mom, Beth, Hershel, Glenn, and her stepmom and step brother, deathless in art.

"You should try to get some sleep," I murmur, standing beside her. "We're gonna head to Alexandria in the mornin'."

"Okay," she nods, not moving from her spot. "Seems nice there."

"Yeah, it is."

"Why'd you leave?"

Because I couldn't stand the thought of watching everyone else I loved die. It felt like a matter of time before it was Adie on that bridge or Adie on the floor in the hallway of a hospital or Adie with a bolt through her eye or headless or just  _ gone _ and I fucking couldn't. I can't tell her that, though. I can't tell her about Rick or Beth or Denise or Glenn or how selfish I was for running away, not yet.

"One day," I tell her, clapping her on the shoulder. "Try to get some sleep."

I leave her where she is 'cause maybe I'm selfish and maybe I'm an asshole, but I miss Adie's hair in my face, I miss putting my head on her chest and listening to her heartbeat, I miss feeling like it's safe to close my eyes, and I'm tired of sleeping alone. I just need to see her. I practically sprint down the hallway, moving quick before I can lose my nerve, and when I round the corner, there's Kal. He's standing just outside Adie's doorway and she's leaning against the frame, listening intently to whatever he's saying, and then she steps aside and he slips past her and the two of them disappear behind a closed door.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Can I come in?"

I don't know why I expected it to be Daryl, but when I opened the door and it was Kal standing there my heart sank a little lower. I open the door wide and let him in, closing it behind him.

"What's up?" I question, turning to find him staring at the floor, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Yeah, fine. I just, uh… I came to apologize about… about earlier, I um…"

"It's okay, Kal," I assure him. "I'm not even worried about it."

He's quiet for a few moments, still not quite looking at me, and I get the impression there's something he's not saying.

"Is-"

"Are you and Daryl getting back together?" He blurts, his eyes flickering to mine. "I mean, I… just give it to me straight. Please."

"I…" I trail off, at a loss. "I don't know."

"Look," he says, scratching the back of his head and eyeing me apologetically. "I care about you, Adie. A lot, and uh… and I know he's back, but I don't… I just need to know where you stand, like… do I have a shot in hell?"

Oh, god damn it.

"It's okay if the answer's no," he says quietly.

"No," I breathe, hating myself for being the cause of the pain flashing briefly in his eyes before he nods and shows himself out.

I wish I could lie to him. He's consistent and he's sweet and he's funny and I know he's got my back, but he's not Daryl. No one makes me feel safe like Daryl does, no one lights me up like that, like his touch turns me into a supernova. He's the only thing I want and I didn't realize it until he came back, but I was still waiting for him and I would've waited forever. But I'm done waiting. He's  _ here.  _ Tomorrow. Tomorrow, after we get our people home, when we have five seconds to breathe, we're gonna figure this out.

*Daryl's POV*

I can't look at her. She's still coming to Alexandria and I can't figure out why she don't wanna stay here with Kal. My gut's all twisted up, has been since last night, and I couldn't sleep. Every time I tried to close my eyes all I could see was them behind that door, couldn't stop thinking about what he was doing to her.

"Hey," Michonne murmurs, falling into step beside me at the back of our little group.

"Hi," I grunt, glaring at the ground.

"You could just ask her, you know," she points out quietly.

After I saw that door close I didn't know where else to go, so I just went back to Maggie's office. Michonne took one look at my face and all but dragged me outside and when she asked what was wrong I couldn't lie to her. We've been through too much shit together, she'd have known it was a lie and gotten to the truth anyway, so I told her about Kal and Adie and that fucking door closing and how final it felt. She thinks I'm wrong, but I know what I saw.

"No."

Michonne just scoffs, annoyed, squaring her shoulders and marching forward to catch up with Adie.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Hey," Michonne greets, joining Lydia and me at the head of the group.

"Hey," I echo, watching the cloud my breath forms in the frigid air bloom and disappear.

"So," she says conversationally. "You and Kal? When did that happen?"

"It didn't."

"You sure about that?" She counters, offering me a sideways grin. "Because I heard he was in your room last night."

"Heard from who?" I demand.

"A good investigator never reveals her sources."

"You need better sources," I snort. "If you wanna be a good  _ investigator,  _ anyway."

"Look," she sighs, her face turning serious as she lowers her voice to a whisper. "Daryl saw Kal go into your room."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," I hiss, glancing over my shoulder just in time to catch a pair of steel blue eyes on me before they dart back to the ground. "Seriously?  _ That's _ why he's bein' such an asshole? Kal was in my room for like two minutes. Tell your  _ sources  _ to get his facts straight."

Daryl hasn't looked me in the eye once all goddamn day, hasn't said one word to me, all 'cause he thinks something happened with  _ Kal? _ Why the fuck didn't he just ask me? Since when can we not talk about shit? God, this is getting old.

"Actually, I'll tell him myself," I blurt, whirling around and stomping towards Daryl. "Don't wait. We'll catch up."

*Daryl's POV*

"What is your problem?" Adie demands, eyes ablaze.

I ain't telling Michonne nothin' ever again. She and the others had gone ahead, leaving me alone with Adie to fend for myself.

"No, really," she hisses when I don't answer. "That wasn't rhetorical."

"You already know what my problem is," I snap, glaring right back at her.

"Why didn't you just  _ ask  _ me?" She snarls. " _ Before  _ you went around talkin' out your ass?"

"Why was he in there?"

"Oh,  _ now _ you wanna ask questions?"

"Well, you were a little busy last night!"

" _ Busy?! _ " She explodes, loud enough I'm sure our group can hear all our business. "I didn't  _ do _ anything, Daryl! Nothin' happened, okay? Jesus."

"Why-"

I don't get to finish that thought. Her face hardens and I brace myself, sure she's about to hit me. Then her lips are on mine and it ain't gentle. It's almost violent, the way her mouth is moving, the way her body crashed into mine, and I don't even remember what the fuck I was gonna ask her, and by the time my brain catches up with my body, right when my lips start moving with hers, she tears herself away from me, leaving me breathless, heart thundering in my chest.

"Nothin' happened," she repeats, panting slightly like that kiss stole the wind from her lungs, too. "Nothin' ever happened, not with him or anyone else. I… it's  _ you.  _ It's always been you. So quit bein' an asshole and let's go home. Okay?"

I can't do nothin' but nod and follow her through the trees and back out to the road. She takes her place back at the front of the group, looping an arm through Lydia's and engaging Aaron in a conversation about Gracie and training wheels or some shit like nothing happened and I don't even know what the fuck. I fall into step with Michonne. She don't look at me, just smirks like she knows some shit.

"Shut up," I mutter, ears reddening.

-

Judith is in Michonne's arms almost the second we step through the gates and RJ ain't far behind. I hazard a glance at Adie and her eyes are on the family, a sad smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Our kid would've been just a little older than RJ. Makes my chest hurt to think about that. Makes my chest hurt seeing Adie sad. I'm still watching her when that sad smile morphs into a genuine grin, a small chuckle escaping her just before a frozen ball of wet shit smacks me in the face.

"Gotcha," Judith giggles.

Oh, it's on. I scoop up a handful of snow, winging it at the little girl, her delighted laughter pealing through the air. Now the storm's past, now that our people are safe, maybe it's okay to enjoy the snow just a little bit. I'm so caught up in trying to keep up with these kids chasing me around, I don't notice Adie's not participating until Lydia joins in and RJ and Judith team up against the newer, more exciting target. I glance up just in time to see Aaron drop a fistful of snow down Adie's back. She squeals with cold, arching and whirling on the cackling man.

"Aaron!" She hisses. "I have  _ twice _ the hands you do, you best run."

There's a look of genuine fear on his face as he sprints away, dodging the snowball that would've pelted him square in the back of the head. He ducks behind me for cover, but I ain't about to get in the middle of this so I skitter away as another ball comes careening through the air, hitting Aaron in the chest with a wet thunk before disintegrating, tiny bits of snow falling to the ground. Adie grins triumphantly and I know I shouldn't, I know this ain't gonna end well for me, but I can't help it. I scoop up another handful of snow, balling it up in my hand and hurling it at her.

She blinks at me, surprised, then she's on the warpath, out for blood, and pretty soon it's six on two. Michonne, Carol, and the kids made the smart choice, forming an alliance with Adie, probably for safety's sake, all of 'em flinging snowballs one right after the other.

"Oh, my god," I sputter after a particularly mean hit from Judy. "Okay, okay!" I put my hands up, prompting Aaron to follow suit. "We surrender!"

I almost don't catch her in time. She thinks she's being sneaky, but she ain't that stealthy. I whirl around, startling her before she can drop the fucking massive pile of snow she's carrying over my head. This ain't even a ball. This shit's a snow  _ loaf. _ I can tell she's thinking about throwing it anyway, so I pick her ass up off the ground and throw her over my shoulder.

"Daryl!" She protests, writhing around, trying to get loose. "Put me down!"

"Nuh-uh."

"Daryl!"

"Nope," I chuckle. "No way. I'm takin' your ass hostage. Gon' use you to negotiate mine and Aaron's freedom."

"You can't negotiate!" She points out smugly, giving up and just hanging on me. "You already surrendered."

"Well I'm takin' it back."

"No take backs, Uncle Daryl!" Judith giggles.

"Yeah!" Adie agrees, kneeing me gently in the ribs. "No take backs, Uncle Daryl."

Defeated, I let her slide to the ground. That was a mistake. She still has that snow loaf. Before I can even register how impressed I am she managed to hold onto the damn thing, she hurls it at my stomach.

"I accept your surrender," she grins, and the blush in my cheeks ain't got shit to do with the cold.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Knock knock," I murmur, Daryl's eyes snapping to mine.

After getting all caught up on how they handled the storm here, the main point of interest being Negan saving Judith, I'd gone up to Michonne's guest room where I'd been staying only to find my pack sitting outside the door and Carol already tucked into bed. Aaron offered to let me move into his guest room, but I know where I wanna be.

"You, um…" I continue, leaning against the door frame of the basement area that's been serving as his living space. "You lookin' for a roommate?"

He eyes the pack dangling from my shoulder, eyes narrowing like he's thinking real hard about his answer.

"Look, I can let you stay here," he says eventually. "But you gotta ask my wife first."

"That so?" I question, strolling leisurely to where he's lounging on the sofa.

"Mhmm."

He looks a little nervous, chewing his lip as he stares up at me.

"Well, where's she at?"

"You could probably find her," he nods. "Tall, red hair, loud mouth."

"I'm not loud," I chuckle, dropping my pack to the floor and sinking onto the other end of the sofa.

"You are sometimes," he counters pointedly.

I know exactly what he's alluding to, a sudden rush of heat pooling in the pit of my stomach. I haven't been touched in six years and I can't pretend I don't miss it. Part of me feels like it's too soon, like maybe we should take this slow, really talk shit through, but… no. I'm done waiting. I'm done with slow and uncertainty. I know what I want, and the way he's looking at me… I think he knows what he wants, too. He's different now. More decisive. He smiles more, doesn't seem to shy away from touching or being touched anymore. Still, I'm shocked when he grabs my waist and pulls me to him.

I place my legs on either side of his body, settling onto his lap, weaving my fingers through his hair the way I've been dying to do for months now, but before I can bring his lips up to mine, he tucks a hand up under my chin, holding me in place.

"What're you doin'?"

"Jus' wanna look at you," he murmurs softly, his eyes crawling over my face, gently stroking a thumb over my cheekbone.

God, and it's those eyes I dream about all the time, that scorching steel blue. The way he looks at me like he's studying me, like I'm the most fascinating subject to ever capture his attention. His hair is curling at the ends, framing his face, hanging down over his eyes, and I push it all out of the way. I don't know how long we stay like this, just looking, but something about this feels so ephemeral and fleeting, like moving could shatter it, and so I don't. I just look at him, look at the silver streaked through his beard, the trembling lips, that new scar… before I know what I'm even doing, I lean forward and press my lips to the vertical slice of red that starts just above his eyebrow and ends just below his eye.

It's like something breaks in him. His body collapses into mine, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs, his head dropping to rest against my chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I… I'm sorry."

"Shh," I smooth his hair, holding him close, and it feels like I finally found him. "It's okay, Daryl. You're here now."

I tuck my hand under his chin, tilting his face up to mine.

"You're here now," I repeat when he raises his eyes to mine.

I kiss him again and this time he responds, his mouth moving against mine, soft and sweet, but I don't want him soft and sweet right now. I rock my hips forward, dragging a ragged gasp from his throat. He seems to take the hint, taking my bottom lip between his teeth, his tongue flicking over it, and I'm on fire, trying my damnedest to keep my lips on his while fumbling with the buttons on my shirt, tearing it from my arms and tossing it to the floor. After all this time… we're still pretty good at this. He drags his teeth down the column of my throat, his tongue dipping into my cleavage, and I arch against him, unhooking my bra and letting it fall between our bodies, where he promptly snatches and flings it across the room. He twists our bodies, dropping me to the cushion beside him and leaning over me, one knee between my legs and the other I don't care where because he's got his mouth around one nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue over the bud, and holy  _ shit. _

"Daryl," I rasp, fingers desperately working at his belt. "Daryl, please."

It's freezing down here, but I don't give a shit, every article of clothing between us, every thread blocking my skin from his, it all has to go. I'm almost frantic, kicking my jeans off and to the floor where his pants and belt land half a second later, and I think I just tore a button off his shirt in my haste to get it off of him, but it's fine, I'll fix it later, I just need him. He's still beautiful and I can't help but admire him, admire the familiar scars and the new ones, the tattoos I've traced over and over, the muscles coiling beneath his skin, the thin trail of hair leading down, down, down…

He's staring at me, his eyes raking over every inch of my bare skin, and it's like he can't help his hand from gripping his cock, stroking a thumb over the glistening tip, a low groan resonating in his chest. He drops to his knees beside the sofa, gripping me by the thighs and dragging me to the edge of the cushions, hooking my knees over his shoulders, and he's trailing the tip of his tongue up my inner thigh while my hands struggle to find purchase, gripping at the cushion to no avail, and I think I black out a little when his tongue runs up my slit.

"Oh my god, Daryl…" I pant, looking down at his head between my legs.

His eyes are on mine and something about that sends a surge of heat right to where he's settled, his tongue lapping at the wetness dripping out of me. He growls, wrapping his mouth around my clit, sucking harshly and slipping a finger inside me, knuckle deep in the slick, and it's like he's got electricity in him, like every nerve ending in my body is buzzing, and I'm already right there and falling over the edge, my thighs clamping over his ears, my fingers tangled in his hair, pressing him against me. He adds a second finger and works me through it, but it's not enough, it's not enough, I need  _ him,  _ and I'm pulling at him, pulling him up to the cushion, and I'm sinking down onto his cock almost before he's even seated.

"Jesus Christ, Adie," he growls, sucking in sharply and biting his lip.

His head falls back against the couch and he ruts up into me, and I'm finally,  _ finally  _ full again, he's here, he's here, and my blood is on fire and my soul is singing the fucking Hallelujah Chorus, and his hands are everywhere, rough and calloused and those are mine and  _ he _ is mine… 

"Adrienne…" he pants, stomach muscles rolling, contracting, heaving against me. "Adrienne…  _ fuck,  _ I can't, I can't, I'm..."

He bites down on my shoulder, hard, muffling his cries as he spills into me, the two of us falling apart together. His head falls back to the cushions as he softens inside me, and I collapse against him, tasting the salt on his neck, spent and boneless and  _ home. _ We stay stuck together like this until we can catch our breath, until the freezing air starts to cool our skin. Daryl reaches for the blanket draped over the arm of the sofa, turning our bodies so he's nestled into the cushions and I'm nestled into him, and drapes it over us.

"I love you, Daryl Dixon," I breathe, pressing my ear against his chest so I can listen to his heartbeat, eyelids already heavy.

"I love you," he murmurs against the top of my head, his breath tickling my hair while his fingertips trace lazily up and down my spine. "I'm gon' love you forever, Mrs. Dixon."


	15. A Damn Fine Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains gratuitous smut, not gonna lie. Scroll with caution if that's not your jammy jam.

**Chapter 15**

*Daryl's POV*

"Watch your ranks, watch your files."

We're at Oceanside, training the new militia. It feels like it did before, when we were fighting the Saviors, only this time… this time we're doing it like Rick would want. Training to defend, not to attack. I ain't marching with 'em though. I'm hanging back, walking alongside 'em, watching, taking notes. If we got anybody needs improving, we'll give 'em some extra time with Adie and Aaron before heading home.

"Keep it tight!"

It's impressive. Really impressive. A few dozen of 'em in neat rows, marching in sync across the beach. The first row, the frontline, they got shields Earl and Alden smithed back at Hilltop, forming an impenetrable wall in front of our little troop as they move closer and closer to the wrecked cargo ship, aboard which we've been storing our practice targets. Cyndie and Rachel break from the group, joining Ezekiel and Jerry at the boat, beating their fists against the large, rusted door of the Captain's quarters. Getting them targets riled up.

Ezekiel yanks the door wide open, allowing a handful of waterlogged walkers to stumble from within while Cyndie and Rachel sprint back behind the shields, rejoining the ranks just as Ezekiel slams the door shut. Practice is about control. Getting everybody used to fighting as one, like a machine.

"And halt!" Aaron orders. "Drop!"

They all drop to one knee, with the exception of the bow-persons in the very back row.

"Archers!"

This time, Aaron's prompt is followed by a flurry of arrows, sailing over the troop and piercing into the walkers.

"Retrieve!"

Cyndie and Rachel emerge from behind the shield wall once more, pulling arrows from dead flesh.

"Right and march!" Aaron commands, the army rising and making its way steadily forward to welcome Cyndie and Rachel back into the ranks before the next wave of walkers.

I can't help my eyes from flickering towards the girl with the crimson curls more often than is actually necessary. She's near the center of the group, beside Michonne, and the look on her face… she's determined. It don't matter if this is controlled, that it's just practice, this is life or death to her and she's treating it as such.

"And halt!" Aaron cries once more, Cyndie and Rachel safely behind the shields. "Spears!"

The row just behind Aaron positions their spears just so, placing them between each of the shields, waiting.

"Thrust!"

The spears fly forward, impaling the walkers, dropping them where they stand. There's one straggler, but it don't matter. Alden rears back and hurls his spear like a javelin, the tip running through the skull and out the back. The shield wall opens for him to retrieve his weapon, closing up again as another handful of walkers shamble onto the sand.

"And halt!" Aaron cries.

"Open ranks!" Michonne orders.

The group splits down the middle, opening up for Michonne, Adie, Luke, and Magna. I know I'm supposed to be looking for flaws, seeing who needs extra practice, but I can't  _ not  _ watch Adie. She's incredible this way, the way she moves like her knives are part of her body, an extension of her hands. She looks like she's dancing, like some kind of vengeful angel or some shit, brutal and graceful, and not for the first time I'm grateful I don't have to fight her. She's violent like her dad was, violent like me, and I know it's probably real fucked up to be feeling all lovey about it and shit, but it makes me feel less like a freak.

"Those bolts are gonna give!" She hollers, something like alarm crossing her face.

"It's about to get real, y'all!" Michonne warns as Jerry and Ezekiel abandon the quaking door. "Everyone, steady."

Adie wasn't exactly right. The bolts are fine. The wall housing the door, however, gives way to weight of the dead, a dozen and a half of 'em flattening it onto the sand and steamrolling right over it.

"Fan out!" Aaron yells.

They break into four clusters, each gathering behind three shields per group.

"Hey, stay in your formations!" Michonne snarls, a few of 'em getting a little antsy. "Remember your training!"

Adie and I flank the frontline, knives burying into skulls, taking out three each before ducking behind the shields and meeting each other in the middle. She flashes me a cocky little grin that stirs something in my guts and it's all I can do not to lose focus right here and now. She loves this, she loves the fight. It fucking exhilarates her. She don't pretend otherwise, neither, and it's a kind of energy we all can feed off of. Call it morale, if you want. I just think it's hot as fuck. Weapons are flying, blades flashing in the sun, and it don't take but a minute or two until the last walker falls.

-

"Training was worth the trip," Michonne muses, the two of us walking through the community while our people mingle and play.

"Yeah, they did good," I agree. "Tara would've been proud."

"Hm," she hums. "Hope so. It's good to bring the kids also, let 'em see the ocean for the first time."

"Yeah, I know one idiot that would've  _ loved _ this."

"Oh, and your idiot doesn't?" She counters with a chuckle, punching me affectionately on the arm and nodding at my idiot.

My beautiful idiot, tearing across the beach like a bat outta hell, Jerry and the kids hot on her heels. She lets out a shriek of giggles when he lifts her in the air, kicking her legs while the kids start up a chant.

"Dunk her! Dunk her! Dunk her!"

"Don't you dare!" She hollers. "Jerry!  _ Jerry! _ "

But Jerry's got a crowd of children to entertain and they demand sacrifice. What else can he do, really? Adie's protests become quite spirited as Jerry wades into the water, stopping nearly knee deep before dropping her unceremoniously into the waves. She's up almost immediately, soaking wet and not as angry as she's pretending to be, but still… Jerry would be wise to run. This was definitely worth the trip.

*Adrienne's POV*

This whole thing was starting to feel like a vacation to me. Sun, surf, sand… skin. Guess it was a stretch to think the fun could last for too much longer. We haven't seen any of Alpha's freaks since before the storm. It's been months. Judy led the kids on a little treasure hunt. They came back from their walk to the mouth of the river with buckets full of treasures like sand, seashells, and, in RJ's case, a skin mask.

"Kids found it by the estuary," Aaron sighs, relaying the discovery to Gabe on the radio. "River must've carried it down."

"What does it mean?" Gabe demands worriedly. "Are they back?"

"We don't know," Aaron replies. "But Alexandria should go on lockdown just in case."

"Hold on," Michonne orders. "We don't have evidence to justify that. My official recommendation is that everyone should stay on alert until further notice. Eyes and ears open. That's it."

"Copy that. Over and out."

"Sounds good," Michonne says. "Over and out," she turns to Aaron, who seems just a little frustrated he'd been undermined. "I appreciate your caution, and I get it, but we do  _ not  _ need to start a panic."

"A lot of stuff washed ashore from the recent storm," Cyndie points out. "This, this might not mean anything."

"Or it might mean something," Aaron counters.

"Startin' somethin' back home'll just get 'em all riled up over nothin', turn 'em against Lydia," I murmur softly. "I'd rather they didn't start a witch hunt while we're not there to mediate."

"Look," Aaron says. "No one saw Alpha's herd move out, so maybe no one saw them move back  _ in. _ But if there's a mask, maybe there are other signs of them out there. We owe it to our people to be sure."

Michonne sighs heavily, she and I exchanging a glance. Wouldn't hurt to check around.

"I'll gather a group, we'll leave in five," she decides.

"I'ma hang back for a bit," Daryl announces.

We all know why. The boat's due to come in soon and he doesn't wanna miss it.

"I'll catch up."

"Tell her not to leave again without saying goodbye," Michonne mutters.

"Alright," he nods, taking my hand and pulling me from the small shack housing Oceanside's radio setup.

"Wait a minute,  _ both _ of you?" Michonne demands, incredulous.

"I-"

"She'll catch up, too," Daryl promises, interrupting me. "Jus' need her for a sec."

"I'll catch up," I shrug.

Daryl's silent, moving like his boots are on fire, leading me around the perimeter of the community, all the way to the far side, glancing warily around like he's afraid we're being followed.

"Daryl, what's wro-"

He whirls around, pushing me up against the back wall of the building that used to be an arsenal but now serves as a boat house, storing extra sails and ropes and nets. His mouth crashes into mine before I can ask him what's wrong, but the hardness I can feel poking at my thigh through two layers of denim gives me a pretty good guess.

*Daryl's POV*

I don't know what it is, but the way she looks in the sun drives me fucking crazy, her hair turned wildfire, skin shimmering with sweat. She smells like dirt and the ocean and that lemony vanilla soap Nabila makes and it's intoxicating and I don't give a fuck, I need her now. Right now.

"You're gonna miss it," she pants, her body already yielding to my touch, dropping her pack into the dirt.

"No, I ain't," I grunt, kissing that spot on her neck I know she likes, my fingers fumbling at her belt buckle.

"Here?"

"Why not?"

She can't think of a good reason neither, apparently, tangling her fingers through my hair and dragging my lips back to hers, gasping a little when I slip my hand into her jeans, spreading her with two fingers, groaning into her mouth when she slicks my fingers, ready and wanting this and it don't matter how many times she lets me touch her this way, I will never not be amazed I can do this to her, this woman with the wildfire halo and the dancing eyes and that grin with those damn dimples who could bring me to my goddamn knees,  _ has  _ brought me to my goddamn knees over and over again. I start unbuttoning her shirt with my free hand, but think better of it when I remember we ain't exactly in private, opting instead to push her shirt up her body, up and over her tits. She thinks they're small, nothing worth fussing over. I think they're perfect.

"You best hurry," she murmurs, breathless, against my lips. "If you wanna catch that boat."

"Thought you didn't like it quick," I counter, slipping a finger inside her, smirking when her walls clench around it, spasming and coating my skin with fresh slickness.

"You gonna…" she pants, arching against the redbrick behind her. "You gonna change my mind?"

I slip a second finger inside, dragging my teeth down her neck and closing my mouth around one nipple, sucking and flicking my tongue over the bud. She don't got a smart ass response for that, but she's right. We gotta make this quick. I rub my thumb over her clit, grinding down on it while I pump my fingers in and out of her, curling them with every other thrust, and she's trembling, struggling to stay on her feet, and I can't stop looking at her face, the way she's trying so hard to keep quiet, her bottom lip captured between her teeth, her head lolling about against the brick.

"You changin' your mind, sweetheart?" I question, just a little smugly, kissing across her chest and biting down on her other nipple, just enough pressure to not be gentle.

She don't answer, just comes hard, laughing breathlessly, hands searching for something to grab, finding nothing she can hold onto, settling for lacing her fingers through my hair and holding my head against her chest while she rocks against me, soaking my hand. For all her talk about how I need to hurry, she takes a minute to come down, her chest heaving, breath coming in short, sharp gasps. But when she's recovered some, when she's tested her legs and found them to be strong enough to hold her up again, she's whirling around, pushing me up against the wall and sinking to her knees, staring right up at me with those eyes I've been mesmerized by for, fuck, it's gotta be a decade now.

She calls it hazel. Seems like there should be a better name for this particular combination of colors. She's got my belt unbuckled, pants undone, my cock in her hands in what feels like half a second but also forever, and when she runs the tip of her tongue over the tip, as embarrassing as it might be, I'm already right on the edge, and she knows it, she fucking  _ knows  _ it. Her mouth should be classified as a weapon. This shit is dangerous. I don't care. She grips the base of my cock, wrapping her fingers around me, squeezing and pumping me while her mouth engulfs the tip, sucking hard, her cheeks hollowing, and she's still looking at me and it ain't fair.

"Adie," I hiss, head smacking into brick, my hips bucking against her. "Jesus  _ Christ. _ "

She hums around me, her eyes lighting up with something that might just be she's liking this like I am but also something that looks amused, like she knows exactly what the fuck she's doing when my hands weave themselves into her hair and I'm trying, I'm trying not to just drive into her mouth, trying to make it last, but she ain't having it. She pumps my cock one more time before taking her hand and cupping my balls in her palm, gently rolling her thumb over each of them, and god help me, she bobs forward, letting my cock slide right down her throat, humming around me like it don't bother her at all, and my hands are fisting in her hair and I can't, I can't…

"Adrienne…" I pant, spilling down her throat, something white hot and tight in my gut at the sight of her in the dirt in front of me, of those eyes still on mine while she swallows, and Jesus  _ fuck… _

She tucks me back into my pants and zips me up, grinning lazily up at me. I'm spent, leaning against the wall, still trying to figure out how the fuck this happened 'cause I had plans for her that involved lasting longer than five minutes and maybe spending a little more of that time between her legs. She's back on her feet, pulling a canteen from her pack and unscrewing the cap, holding it out to me. I didn't know how dry my throat was until the water hit it. I pass it back to her, trying not to stare while she swallows, trying not to think of her lips wrapped around my cock, and failing miserably at both.

"You gonna go catch that boat?" She questions, tilting her head to one side and arching an eyebrow. "Stud?"

"Stop," I huff out a laugh, rolling my eyes at the name. "Don't call me that."

"Would you prefer Big Yum?"

"Shut up," I snort, wrapping her in my arms and dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

I'm seriously debating not letting her go. I know Michonne needs her out there, I know we all got jobs to do, but I never wanna not see her. I'm still terrified of the day coming when I'm not there to protect her and she just don't come back. But she's gonna go out there anyway.

"Love you, Mrs. Dixon," I murmur into her hair, stroking my thumbs over her shoulder blades.

"Love you, too," she whispers, voice muffled against my chest. "Go, you're gonna be late."

I tuck my hand under her chin, lifting her lips to mine. She might use her mouth like a goddamn demon, but her lips are so, so soft. I don't know how she can be both, I never did. Heaven and hell. She breaks away from me, laughing quietly.

"I'll be back soon," she promises, resting her forehead against mine. "I'll come find you."

I nod and reluctantly let her walk away, watching the sway of her hips, her hair ruffling in the breeze… Jesus. I shake my head, trying to rattle my priorities back into place, and start for the pier.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Hey, we're clear up here," I murmur into the walkie. "No sign of 'em."

I'd taken the northeast quadrant, headed upstream. There's nothing out here, no sign of the skins. Just a few soggy walkers that spooked my borrowed horse half to death, which really makes me miss Voltaire. He's not nearly so skittish. Fast, too. Maybe it's 'cause Maggie helped me train him. I left him back home in favor of riding on the back of Daryl's bike. He's been teaching me how to ride and I love it. I love the freedom and the wind and the rumbling of the engine and the way the handlebars feel in my grip, but I still love riding with Daryl best. I love wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing up against him and burying my face in his neck and pretending we're going on an adventure somewhere, just us.

"We didn't find anything," Michonne's voice crackles. "We're circling back."

"Copy."

"Hold on," Yumiko's worried voice floats from the speaker. "There's something you all should see."

*Daryl's POV*

Dog seems to have bonded with Connie, ever since we took off looking for Henry. He stays at my side most of the way to the dock, but the second he spots Connie and Kelly near the water, taking a break from helping with the fishing nets, I guess, he starts barking and hightails it towards the girls. And I thought dogs were supposed to be loyal. Connie scratches his head affectionately and she waves and I wave back and I thought maybe Dog might follow me the rest of the way to the pier, but he don't. I leave him with the girls. He'll be fine.

Ezekiel, unsurprisingly, is already at the dock, staring off into the distance and waiting. He still loves her. I wonder if he still blames me for her leaving or if he knows now it ain't like that, with Adie and I back together or whatever. She ain't shy about us, neither, seemingly delighting in making me blush in front of whoever the hell happens to be around when she's feeling particularly affectionate. She'll whisper dirty shit in my ear or rest her hand just a little too high on my leg to be accidental. She'll sometimes just lay one on me like she don't give a fuck who sees. I never thought I'd be comfortable with that kind of thing, but l  _ like _ it. I like being hers, feeling like I belong to someone without feeling like I'm all caged in. I can still smell her on me, that musky, pleasant smell clinging to my fingers, and I'm suddenly sure Ezekiel can smell it, too. Maybe that's why he's so qui-

"You ever wonder why they call bird shit guano?" He questions abruptly, eyeing the seagulls dipping and diving in the distance.

"Nah," I grunt. "I just call it bird shit."

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Me, too. You know somethin', when I worked in a zoo, birds used to scare the hell outta me. Lions, tigers, no problem. There's a kind of sense to the way big cats operate, but…  _ ostriches?  _ Those things'll disembowel you for lookin' at 'em sideways."

"You gotta eat more birds," I point out. "Show 'em who's boss."

"Wonder what seagull tastes like."

"Not chicken."

He chuckles, but before he can expand upon his bird fears, there's a furry, panting beast coming our way, led by Connie the dog whisperer.

"Hi," I greet him, clapping my thighs and beckoning him to me, scratching his head and petting on him. "Hi, buddy. Hi."

Connie holds up a note.

I THINK YOU

LOST SOMETHING.

"Uh…" I grunt, trying to remember the little bit of sign language I've picked up.

I mentioned something about learning it to Adie and, of course, she knew exactly where the book I needed would be. She'd been using Gregory's old office when her and Jesus and Tara were running shit at Hilltop and he, apparently, had quite the assortment of language books, including American Sign Language. He also had Spanish, Mandarin, German, Latin, and, inexplicably, Finnish. Probably thought they made him look smarter or more cultured or some other pretentious fucking bullshit.

"No," I sign. "He just likes you better."

She nods, smiling in a way where I can't tell if she's impressed or laughing at me, scribbling something else down on her notepad.

"Right?" I question uncertainly.

I make kissy noises and drum on my chest, Dog leaping up for kisses. I ain't sure if I rescued him or he rescued me. I scratch him behind the ears.

"Hi… hi," I murmur, smoothing his fur back. "Good Dog."

NOT BAD-

YOU SIGN WITH

A SOUTHERN ACCENT.

"Really?" I demand.

She shakes her head, chuckling silently, but before I can ask her if that's even a thing, Southern signing, or if she's just kidding, somebody's frantically ringing a bell in the distance.

"Hey," I murmur, something warm spreading through my chest as I spot Carol, whistling and waving at her as her boat slowly approaches the dock.

She's waving and grinning and finally here but before I can get to her, Ezekiel's helping her off the boat. I'll keep my distance, give him a minute, at least that's what I think until she all but flat out ignores him, barely looking at him, their conversation lasting all of thirty seconds. She turns to accept a brief hug from Connie before practically hurling herself into my chest. I lift her off the ground, squeezing her tight.

"Did you miss me?" She chuckles breathlessly as I place her back on her own two feet.

"Not really," I quip, grinning and throwing an arm around her.

"I'll take that," she says happily, the two of us promptly wheeling around and leaving the dock.

*Adrienne's POV*

Michonne and Aaron are the last to meet us at Yumiko and Magna's quadrant, the thing we all should see appearing to be, to me at least, nothing more than an abandoned campsite. Whoever was here before is long gone, probably a month or more ago.

"It's a campsite," Michonne says, echoing the words I'd uttered just moments before she and Aaron arrived. "Couple people. What am I missin'?"

"This is not what we wanted to show you," Magna announces.

"And you couldn't tell me that, why?" I demand, my questions having been met with silence.

"I don't like to repeat myself," she snaps, glaring.

Magna has made it quite clear she doesn't like me. Maybe she feels like I abandoned Hilltop when I abdicated. Maybe she doesn't like that in a fight, I have the advantage over her. I have the training. Or maybe she just knows I think she's a reckless, impulsive  _ brat _ who doesn't give a damn about anybody but herself and has major authority issues. Who knows? With a sigh, I fall into step with the rest of our group and follow her a few yards to the south where several corpses, some obvious walkers, a couple mostly just bones at this point, lie haphazardly on the forest floor.

"Camper's must've got into a fight with these walkers, right?" Luke observes.

"Or maybe the two things aren't connected," Alden murmurs.

We move on, another several yards, to another body. Male, naked and face down, not nearly decomposed enough to have been here for long. Maybe a month, two at the most, though I can't imagine a body lasting that long out here in the elements, exposed like that. There's animals, walkers, insects… no, this happened fairly recently.

"Looks like he's been here for a while." Michonne mutters.

"Couple months," I sigh. "Maybe."

We move on once more, following Magna and Yumiko to their most concerning discovery, rotting and abandoned over a log, like an animal hide. It's a chest, male, precision cut from shoulders to navel. I think of the naked corpse just yards away, my stomach rolling. It's obscene.

"A skin," Aaron says ominously, grabbing a stick from the ground and gingerly lifting the slab of flesh from the log. "So at least one of 'em has been on our side of the border at some point."

"Yeah, but when?" Yumiko questions. "And what the hell happened here?"

That's a damn fine question.


	16. A Goddamn Force of Nature

**Chapter 16**

*Daryl's POV*

"Where's Adie?" Carol questions, eyes flickering from face to face as we meander through Oceanside.

"She's out for a ride."

It ain't technically a lie, not really. She is riding. I don't wanna tell Carol about the skin yet. She just got back and she's smiling, happy… that ends the second she finds out and I wanna let her hold onto her joy for just a little longer.

"So," I grunt, changing the subject. "How was it out there?"

"Work til you feel like your back's gonna break," she tells me. "Then you work some more, and at the end of the night, you fall down and sleep like the dead on a deck under the stars. It's the best."

"Find what you were lookin' for?"

"Oh, then we sailed down south to this dock," she continues, blatantly avoiding the question. "Where Oceanside's been pickin' up letters from Maggie. Wasn't anything there. Hasn't been for a while."

"It's been a while since I heard from you."

"I told you, fishing's hard."

"That's not what I mean," I fight the urge to add  _ and you know it.  _ "You were lookin' for her, weren't you?"

"No."

"Mhmm."

I don't believe her for one damn minute. She's out on that boat, working herself to exhaustion so she can sleep at night, and I know she's still looking for Alpha, for the horde.

"Honestly, no," she insists, her voice all high pitched like when she's bullshitting me. "Tried to forget everything that happened. It was good. And if we're lucky, we'll never have to think about those skin freaks ever again."

Oh, hell. I gotta tell her.

"What?"

I sigh.

"We found one of their masks today."

"Okay."

"Michonne just took a group out lookin' for signs of 'em. That's where Adie's at. You wanna go?"

"No," she shakes her head, and I'm reminded of a lifetime ago, when she said some shit to me.

_ I know you. You have to let yourself feel it. _

She can't. She never could. She won't. 

"I'm only… I'm only here til the next boat heads out."

"Alright," I nod. "So, what you wanna do?"

-

Turns out, she wants to get on the back of the bike, go for a ride. She feels it, too. That same shit I feel, Adie feels. The bike is freedom, or as close as we get now. And it's  _ fun. _

"Never been through here before," Carol shouts to be heard over the roar of the engine.

"Yeah, we just cleared it out to get around the river border."

She don't got nothin' to say to that, not a damn thing. Well, she's got one thing to say.

"Faster."

"Hang on."

*Adrienne's POV*

"And the Brave Man rode the horse very, very far, trying to lead the  _ gigantic  _ herd away."

I'm frozen, watching from a few yards away while Judith tells RJ a story about their daddy. I know I should be doing something useful, helping Aaron figure out this skin shit or training with the ones who need extra sessions, but I'm rooted to this spot, vision blurring, eavesdropping on a couple kids like an asshole.

"But after a while, the horse got scared and ran away, leaving the Brave Man all alone," Judith continues. "So the Brave Man walked all by himself to the bridge. Remember how he built the bridge for all his friends?"

"Yeah," RJ says excitedly, totally engrossed in the story.

"Well, the  _ millions  _ of walkers followed the Brave Man onto the bridge, and on the other side, all his friends were waiting. The Brave Man couldn't let the walkers reach his friends and hurt them, so he blew up the bridge, and all the walkers fell into the water and he saved all his friends. The end."

"Did the Brave Man go to his friend's house after that?"

The innocence of the question disarms me and I choke back a sob. Six years. Six years and sometimes, when I think about it, it still hurts like it was yesterday or this morning. I don't blame Daryl or Michonne for not being able to let him go. Part of me can't, either.

"No," Judith says softly, trying her best to keep her face from falling. "He died and went to heaven."

"Will he come back someday, like the walkers?"

"No, not like that. But people like the Brave Man are never really gone anyway. He lives inside our hearts and makes us brave, too."

"Hey," Michonne chirps, a cheeriness in her voice that's not quite natural.

I'd been so caught up listening to Judith's story, I hadn't heard her behind me. She pats my shoulder on her way past and I know she'd been listening, too. I feel guilty sometimes when I look at her, guilty for being so angry with her when she stopped coming around. She lost more than anyone else that day. I lost a brother. She lost her partner, that rock that kept her going, the father of her children. Daryl may have disappeared, but he came back. I knew he was alive. I don't know how the hell I'd keep going if I lost him forever. I don't think I could.

"Is anybody gonna say hi?" Michonne demands, her kids grinning up at her.

"Hi," they greet in unison, beaming.

"Hi, mom," Judy adds.

"Hi," Michonne sing songs, crouching down and opening up for a hug. "Come on."

RJ leaps up from his seat at the table, hurling himself into Michonne's arms, and I can't help the smile creeping onto my face through the tears. She's one of the strongest people I know. Of course she found a way to keep going. She had to, for them and for all of us. Just like Rick kept going when the tragedies kept piling on top of one another. For us.

"You, too, baby girl," Michonne says pointedly, staring Judith into submission. "Come here."

Judith rolls her eyes in that indulgent way all kids do when they think they're parents are embarrassing. But she still gets up and hugs her mama.

"Mama, I didn't like it when the Brave Man died," RJ announces, he and Judith settling back into their seats. "Why did he do that?"

"Well…" Michonne says. "There are some people that you love  _ so  _ much that you would do  _ anything  _ for them, just like I would do anything for you and for Judith."

"And my dad?" RJ questions.

"Yes," Michonne says softly, smiling sadly. "And your dad. Alright, bring it back in. Come on."

Judith doesn't hesitate this time, jumping up with RJ, the two of them throwing themselves into the hug, Michonne cradling them tight.

"Hey," she says abruptly, her eyes flickering to mine. "You, too, Aunt Adie. Get in here."

I chuckle, sniffling and wiping away my tears, every intention of joining that hug. Until something explodes.

*Daryl's POV*

We're tracking a deer now. Can't do that on a bike, although it'd be way more badass if we could, so we're heel toeing it through the forest. Deer are hard to come by these days, hell, almost any game is hard to find now. Luck… I still think you make your own luck, but this feels like it just fell into our laps and maybe that's lucky. We ain't had many walkers, neither, and maybe that's lucky, too. We got one up ahead, though, and Carol's lining up her shot. Still, crossbow's faster.

"I had that one," she pouts when the walker hits the ground, two arrows lodged in its skull.

Mine hit it first.

"Well," I tell her smugly. "You're supposed to call it."

" _ You  _ didn't call it," she points out, the two of us striding forward to collect our arrows.

Yeah, 'cause I knew she wasn't gonna. Kinda hard to be slick with someone you've known for a goddamn decade.

"Don't wanna play with you anymore if you cheat every time."

"I'm not cheating," she chuckles.

I don't have time to form a decent rebuttal, though. There's more walkers coming our way and with them skin freaks around…

"Watch their hands," I remind her.

But they're all dead. Well, not  _ dead  _ dead, but kinda dead. Well, and now they're really dead, all of 'em. Feels like we've killed a million of these things. You'd think we'd run outta dead undead people at some point. Eventually, we catch up to that deer, manage to put a bolt in it. He's hurt, slow, but he's heading right for one of the borders. I ain't sure we can catch him in time. We hit asphalt, one of the broken roads dividing her territory and ours, and maybe we could've got the deer, maybe, but there's walkers stumbling out of the trees on the other side. The deer drops to the ground in the middle of the road and Carol lines up, ready to take the shot, but we can't.

"Stop."

"Why?"

"It's one of her borders," I point out.

"They're walkers," she counters. "We can still get the deer."

"No, it's too late."

"Why are we still respecting borders we never agreed to when Alpha isn't even here?" She demands. "Can we just forget about them already?"

"It's too late," I repeat.

And it really is. The walkers have reached the deer. Even if we took 'em out, the meat ain't any good now. Carol lowers her bow, sighing.

"That deer could've fed 200 people," she snaps, stomping back into the trees.

She don't talk the whole way back to the bike and neither do I. I ain't sorry, not really. We're respecting borders we never agreed to 'cause we don't know where she is. We got other people to think about. Can't just be picking fights. I rummage through the bag I keep on the bike, retrieving the small package of peanuts I'd stashed.

"I'm sorry," I blurt, finally coming upon something I can apologize for. "I pissed you off."

That much is true.

"I'm sorry you pissed me off, too."

"Well, there's no reason to start shit if we don't gotta," I point out. "After the storm, we all agreed to that."

"That's why it's just as well that I left," she says flatly, eyeing me as I settle onto a large log.

"Yeah, I've been thinkin' about that," I sigh. "Why don't you come on home now?"

"I'm a sea dog, man," she smirks sarcastically, sinking down on her own log just beside mine. "Why don't you get off my ass before I put you on yours?"

"Sorry if I didn't want my best friend to spend her whole life on a boat," I mutter, offering her the peanuts.

"Best friend?" She questions, plucking one from the open package and chuckling. "What are you, ten?"

"Whatever," I grumble, chewing.

"Should we have matching bracelets now?"

"Oh, god, forget it."

"No, I could make some with fisherman's twine," she says, unable to stop the shit eating grin spreading across her face. "Decorate 'em. It'll be  _ really _ cute, with tiny little seashells."

"Oh, my god," I huff. "I take it back."

"No, what's your favorite color? Green? Blue? Black. Definitely black. Or is it red? I know you like red."

I do like red. I like red for exactly the fucking reason she thinks I like red but I ain't gonna give her the satisfaction. She wants a goddamn bracelet, she's getting one though.

"I got an idea," I blurt. "Why don't we eat and  _ not _ talk?"

"Should we make a matching collar for Dog?"

I ignore her and she laughs at herself anyway while I wrap the twine I'd used to seal up the peanut package around a particularly flexible twig.

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"You ever wonder if this is all there is? Just… run into people, kill each other until whoever's left says enough?"

_ You ever feel like we're still diggin' at that same god damn rock? _

"Sometimes I think we're just survivin' one fight to the next," I agree.

"It was like that for you and me before all this."

"Yep. There's gotta be people out there like us. Right?"

She's quiet like maybe she ain't convinced but we found each other, didn't we? And Adie… we all got better  _ after  _ the world went to shit. I don't think I ever would've turned into this person if the dead didn't start walking. If I hadn't met Carol or Adie or Rick, I'd still just be drifting around with Merle. Carol would've died. Ed would've killed her. And Adie… well, Adie would probably have OD'd on some shit, just another broken kid lost to drugs. Maybe we oughta be out there looking for more people, seeing what else there is. Like Maggie.

"I get what Maggie's doin' with Georgie. I do."

"Go out on the boat with me this time."

I pretend to consider that for a second, but we both know I won't do it. Stuck on a boat in the middle of the ocean for what, weeks? Months? And anyway, Adie has this thing about open water, she wouldn't go. Or she  _ would _ go and she'd be scared shitless the whole time.

"Just run away together?" I scoff.

"Be pirates," she grins. "Heck yeah."

"Nah," I shake my head. "Cooped up in those little cabins all day? That's not me."

"Screw the boat, we'll take your bike. And go out on the road."

"Better," I shrug.

"Head out west."

"New Mexico."

"What the hell's in New Mexico?"

"People who weave bracelets," I quip.

And aliens, if you listen to Adie. Then again, aliens ain't any stranger than dead people walking around and eating the living, now, is it? Getting the hell outta here, going out on the road… it sounds like a dream.

"No more fightin'," I murmur. "Jus' get on the bike 'n go, see who's left."

I present her with the finished friendship bracelet and she takes it with a grin, a real one this time, not that smirky bullshit. I ain't kidding. She's my best friend.

"Sounds good to me," she says quietly, chuckling and tying the bracelet around her wrist. "We'll have to figure out what to do with Adie. Maybe she can just sprint alongside us," she snaps her fingers, eyes brightening. "We'll attach a  _ sidecar. _ "

"Adie rides now," I point out.

"Are we talking about bikes or just you?"

"Both," I blurt, and she cackles at my fiery ears.

Then something explodes.

*Adrienne's POV*

A satellite. A satellite just fell from the fucking sky. Nothing should surprise me anymore, but I can't honestly say this shit doesn't throw me at least a little. Eugene was flipping out on the radio, something about grave importance, when we smelled it. Smoke. The forest is on fire. It's Alpha's territory, but that doesn't matter. We have to put it out before it crosses over into ours. We're marching toward the broken stretch of road that separates our land from theirs, armed with tanks full of water with hoses attached, shovels, pickaxes, buckets filled with sand… staring at the flames dancing in the trees, I'm not sure it'll be enough.

"This is crazy," Magna complains. "We can't do this."

"We don't have a choice," Earl points out.

"If we get caught on their side of the border, that's it, that's  _ war, _ " she protests.

"It's a fire," Dianne snaps. "Fires spread. It could burn through our hunting grounds."

"Or take out Oceanside," Cyndie adds.

"Michonne, are we doin' this?" Aaron demands.

"We have to," I hiss, tired of the back and forth. "Fire's not gonna put itself out."

"We gotta go now," Carol agrees.

"Let's go," Daryl barks, darting into the woods. "Come on!"

It's huge. I don't know shit about acreage or square feet, but this thing spans at least a couple dozen yards already, flames jumping from tree to tree, burning through the underbrush with a ferocity I've never seen. Man-made wonders colliding with nature, and the damage could be catastrophic.

"We start on the outside, push in!" Cyndie cries.

Aaron begins hollering orders at the crew on the control line while those of us with tanks spread out, hitting the fire from several directions. Hours. Hours go by. It doesn't feel like we're doing a damn thing, like we're running in a hamster wheel, desperately trying to gain the upper hand. The heat is incredible and I can't help but think of hotdogs left in the microwave too long. I wonder if my insides are gonna swell and split my skin right open. By dawn, the fire's not getting any bigger and that's the best I can say for us. We're keeping it contained. I've switched out tanks three times and I'm sure the one on my back is close to empty.

"I'm outta water," Cyndie announces.

"I'm out," Daryl grunts just seconds later and I curse myself internally for thinking about running out.

I jinxed us. I'm out, too. I shrug the tank from my shoulders, thinking I could run and help the sand crew, but over the voices, over the roar of the flames and the chaos, I hear them.

"Walkers!"

*Daryl's POV*

I should know better. I should know better than to hope we only gotta deal with one disaster at a time. Still, we planned for this. We knew it would happen and brought a cart with us, our weapons lying close by for when they came for us. I was feeling grateful it's only a few until I realized it ain't. It's a herd.

"Don't hit me," Adie hisses, knives out, already flying past me and Cyndie.

She's insane. She's fucking batshit crazy. But she's smart and she's just as quick now as she was ten years ago. She's ducking and dodging and weaving around in the herd, whistling and making all kinds of noise so they'll follow her, stumbling and tripping over themselves. She's giving us some wiggle room, dropping bodies in a neat row, like she's creating a barricade with the corpses. It's working, keeping them from getting too close. I line up with several of the other archers, all of us firing in sync, but that ain't gonna work this time. There's too many. Adie's a goddamn force of nature, but she can't hold back a herd by herself. Don't matter how tough she is. I drop my bow, exchanging it for an ax, and start swinging just as reinforcements from Alexandria arrive. Siddiq, that new doctor, Dante, and Eugene among them.

"Everyone steer clear of that tree!" Eugene orders. "It's gonna fall any minuto!"

My gut twists when I realize I lost sight of Adie sometime in the last minute or two. I can't see her through all the smoke and the people and the walkers. I can, however, see the 50 foot tree, flames licking up the creaking trunk. If it's gonna fall anyway, might as well be on our terms. I heft the ax in my hands, lining up my shot, and hurl it, metal lodging into wood. The top portion of the tree topples down, taking several walkers with it.

" _ Minuto? _ " Adie's irate hiss is just behind me and I can breathe again.

They're still coming, but we can beat 'em. We can beat 'em.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Come on, come on!" Michonne orders. "Pack up and move!"

The fire's out. I feel like I've been run through a taffy puller. On the bright side, no part of my body resembles an overdone hotdog. Winning.

"Eugene!" Michonne hisses. "Let's go."

"I just need 20 minutes," he protests from beside the satellite.

Russian space tech. This is like porn to him. Or Christmas. Christmas porn. Ho, ho, ho. Oh, Christ. Think I breathed in a little too much smoke.

"You get zero!" Michonne snaps. "We gotta go now."

"Ten!" Eugene insists. "Just ten. We should excavate and transport this satellite to our vehicles. I believe there may be invaluable technological implications for our communities if I'm able to retrieve any of the useful bits from inside, I'm not askin'!"

"Oh, my god," Michonne groans.

"We already crossed the border," I point out. "What's another ten minutes?"

She glares at me and I raise my hands in surrender.

"Yumiko, Luke, Magna, everybody, come on!" She hollers. "We're helpin' with the satellite. Five minutes and out!"

A group moves in to help dig up the Christmas porn and move it out, Michonne casting increasingly wary looks through the haze as though she'll be able to see the skin freaks anyway.

"We made the right choice," Aaron assures her.

"Let's not push our luck," she murmurs.

"Well, maybe this buys us some goodwill," he says hopefully.

"Sure as hell better have," I mutter, squinting around, brows furrowing when I don't spot my shaggy haired redneck or Captain Carol among us.

"This helps them, too," Aaron continues.

"We helped  _ our  _ people," Michonne spits. "That's enough good for me for now," she follows my gaze and I can see the exact moment in her eyes she realizes we're down a couple people. "Where are Carol and Daryl?"

*Daryl's POV*

"You still wanna run away together?" I question, gazing down into the empty pit where Alpha's horde used to be.

I half expect some smartass retort about how she's looking forward to seeing Adie in a sidecar or meeting the bracelet weavers of the wild west or some shit, but she's either too exhausted for all that or she's realizing it ain't a joke. I need her here. We all do.

"Yeah," Carol sighs. "Tomorrow."

"Look, I need you to stay," I blurt. "Just think about it."

She looks at me, then looks away, and I know she's already half decided to go back out to sea, pirating her troubles away.

"Otherwise," I continue. "I'm gonna have to punch holes in all them boats."

I turn away, figuring she'll follow when she's ready. I can't stop her if she wants to leave, I know that. I just feel like we started something, crossing that border. I got a feeling we're gonna need all the fighters we got.

*Adrienne's POV*

Three days. That's what we got for putting out that fire. We got home and we had three days of peace before the shit hit. Slow at first, groups of six, then ten or twelve. It's been wave after wave now for a day and a half, groups as big as a hundred or more coming at us from her fucking borders in every goddamn direction.

"How long til the next wave hits?" Michonne demands.

"One hour from the north, two from the south," Eugene announces from the gate watchpost, lowering his binoculars. "Northern wave's thicker than fleas on a farm dog, but the southern's more dispersed."

"You got a headcount?" I question, shading my eyes against the sun and squinting around at our exhausted people.

"By my estimation, we'll be fightin' into the night again."

"Yeah," Daryl huffs. "Can't push 'em too much further."

"I have eyes," Michonne snaps, then shakes her head, immediately contrite. "Sorry. I'm just tired."

"We all are," he dips his head, patting her shoulder.

He turns away, but only for a beat or two.

"Hey," he blurts, pointing. "Heads up."

There's a whisperer approaching our gates. She's alone, but I'm sure her people aren't too far away. She comes to a stop at one of the outer fences, Michonne, Daryl, and I moving forward to see what the fuck she wants.

"The north border," she orders. "Now."

"Call off your walkers," Michonne retorts.

"Not us."

"Bullshit," I hiss.

"Not," she says, casting a withering look in my direction. "Us. Go to the border, lay down your weapons, and wait."

"Wait for what?" Daryl demands.

"Her."

She wheels around and shuffles off without another word.

"Jesus," I sigh, rubbing my temples wearily before turning to Michonne. "What do you wanna do?"


	17. Mother to Mother

**Chapter 17**

*Daryl's POV*

"All right!" Michonne shouts to be heard over the chattering crowd.

Calling the meeting to order. Again. The bullshit back and forth is getting us nowhere. This has to be a group decision and we ain't got time to waste. Makes me wish for the days when one person made the choice to go or not to go. It was simpler that way.

"Is this your mother?" She questions, dipping her head at Lydia, getting straight to the point.

"No," Lydia shakes her head. "I don't think it is."

"Why's she wanna talk with us?" I grunt.

"You crossed into her land," Lydia says simply, eyes flickering to mine. " _ Again.  _ You have to answer for that."

"We don't have to do anything," Aaron retorts. "We could just not go."

"That's a bad idea," Lydia cautions.

"It is," Adie agrees. "Not showin' up? What happens then? She'll retaliate."

"We're already under attack," Dante points out, followed by a chorus of yeahs from the pissed and exhausted crowd.

"It isn't her," Lydia insists. "If she wanted you dead, she'd send the horde.  _ All  _ of it, not just a few waves at a time."

"Maybe she's trying to wear us down first," Carol suggests.

"Or," Eugene pipes up, rising. "As I relayed to you all at the beginning of this meetin', there's plausible reason to believe that the satellite and fire-"

"I don't wanna hear about the damn satellite anymore, Eugene!" Margo snaps, prompting the man to drop back into his seat.

"Hey!" Adie hisses. "Watch your tone or leave."

"My friends  _ died  _ trying to save yours and ended up with their heads on spikes," Margo spits, leaping from her chair. "The Highwaymen want justice!"

There's another chorus of yeahs and I half expect 'em to start passing around torches and pitchforks.

"So all I wanna hear from  _ you, _ " Margo continues, glaring at Michonne. "Is that you're gonna take a dozen of us to meet these freaks at the border and that we're gonna take that lead bitch's head off!"

"We cut it off!" Gage hollers. "And then we'll put  _ their  _ heads on spikes."

The crowd that's been mostly simmering boils over, screaming and yelling bullshit at each other. Siddiq leaps to his feet and sees himself out and that seems to be Michonne's breaking point. She rises from her seat, but the squabbling continues, most everyone ignoring her. Adie doesn't like that. She sighs disparagingly, squaring her shoulders and snatching up an empty mason jar from one of the tables. She marches to the front of the room and hurls the jar to the floor, the sound of shattering glass silencing the bickering group.

"How many walkers did you see in Alpha's horde?" Michonne questions calmly, eyeing me.

"Tens of thousands," I mutter, shaking my head.

"Ah," she nods, turning her gaze to Margo. "So… what's your plan for taking them out?"

Margo's silent, visibly deflating, eyes on Adie, who is now sweeping up the mess she'd made with the jar.

"Oh, that wasn't rhetorical," Michonne presses, demanding her attention.

"I don't have one," Margo hisses.

"Ah," Michonne says again. "Does anybody else?  _ If  _ she sends that horde, that's it! Right now, all she wants to do is talk. And we are going to listen. Now, while we are doing that,  _ everyone _ here needs to  _ focus _ on what's coming in from the north and the south!" She sighs, collecting herself. "We're tired. We are on edge. And it  _ is  _ going to get worse before it gets better. _ But…  _ we aren't gonna get through it at all if we do not act as  _ one. _ "

This seems to satisfy the majority, or at least enough of us we're able to end the meeting and move on with an actual plan. Michonne flattens a map onto the table, Adie, Carol, and I gathering around it.

"Three objectives means three groups," Michonne says. "Gabriel will take point in guarding the gate from the northern wave... while Aaron will take some troops and handle the southern wave, breaking it up before it hits the wall. That leaves us, and the border."

"Unarmed," I mutter.

"You're really goin' in there unarmed?" Carol demands. 

"We got no choice."

*Adrienne's POV*

"Adie?"

"Hm?"

I'm throwing together a med kit for the trip, thinking about the good old days when we did have a choice, or at least the illusion of choice. I'm exhausted. We're  _ all  _ exhausted and I just wanna get this shit done. See what the bitch wants and get the fuck back home in one piece. Daryl's arms snake around my waist, his chest against my back, as he drops his chin to my shoulder. His scruff rubs against my neck and I freeze for a second, completely lost in the sensation, before tossing a few alcohol wipe packets into the backpack on the counter in front of me.

"You good?"

"You really need an answer for that?" I chuckle quietly.

"You don't have to go," he murmurs, his breath whispering across my skin, nearly sending my heart through my chest.

I wonder if he knows what this does to me. If he does, it's so fucking unfair. If he doesn't… that's even more unfair. He turns me into a goddamned teenager again. I'm too old to get stomach flutters. I don't even know how old I am anymore. 35? 36, maybe. Somewhere near there, I think. Plenty old enough to not lose my head at the slightest touch from him. Maybe it's just because it's him. Maybe it'll always feel like this.

"You could stay," he continues, oblivious. "Help out with the gate or go out with Aaron."

"I'm goin' with you," I tell him firmly, turning in his arms and gazing at him. "We're a team."

He just nods, his eyes boring into mine with the same intensity they've always done. Yeah. I'll always feel the flutters. I hope they never stop. I lean forward, pressing my lips to his, then turn back to the med kit.

"You're stuck with me," I announce gravely. "Forever. Like shingles. Or herpes."

"Wait, you never told me you had herpes," he counters, passing me a roll of medical tape and some gauze pads.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," I shrug. "Thought the rash was a dead giveaway."

"Don't make me strip you down 'n check for them blisters, Mrs. Dixon. Make sure you're clean."

I can't help the cackle that escapes my lips as I zip up the med kit and throw the bag over my shoulders.

"You guys are so weird," Lydia blurts from the infirmary doorway, the two of us wheeling around in surprise.

She blushes, shuffling her feet awkwardly, her gaze dropping to the floor. Daryl looks like he wishes he could sink through the floor tiles and disappear.

"Sorry," Lydia mutters.

"It's okay," I chuckle. "Just didn't hear you come in. Everything alright?"

"Yeah," she assures me, her eyes snapping up to my face. "Yeah, fine. I just wanted to say goodbye, you know, before you leave."

She's worried, I realize. Of course she is. She doesn't wanna go back there and if we start shit with Alpha, that's exactly what will happen. If she doesn't just kill us all. My heart softens that much more when I realize she's worried for us, too. That we won't come back. It's sweet and more than a little sad.

"It's just a talk," I assure her. "We'll be back soon as we can."

-

It's after dark by the time our troop reaches the border, night having long fallen. No one's here, not yet. We march on up to the pikes and Daryl's the first to drop his weapon, his crossbow hitting the ground with a dull thud. Michonne and I follow suit, her katana and my blades joining the crossbow. Then Laura and the rest. Now we wait. Carol's frozen, staring at the pike at the far end. Henry's. I didn't want her to come with us. She hasn't been the same and I get it, I do, but she's withdrawn from all of us, even Daryl. She doesn't talk about it. She doesn't sleep. She takes pills to make it so she can stay awake and it's catching up to her. She's gonna crash.

*Daryl's POV*

"You all right?"

I know it's a dumb ass question, but I can't think of nothin' else. Except maybe are you hurting the kind of hurt I can fix? But that just sounds convoluted and weird.

"I…" Carol nods, dropping her bow to the ground. "Need a minute."

I dip my head and move away from her while she finishes disarming. Adie slips her hand into mine and I ain't sure if she's comforting me or herself.

"Is she…" Adie trails off, at a loss. "There anything we can do?"

"No."

There's not a damn thing we can do but wait. And we do. For hours. I'm starting to think this might've just been a set up, lure a group of us out here so we ain't back home to help defend our walls, when I spot 'em. They're coming, I can't tell how many. They're walking with the dead.

_ We have to tell ourselves… that we are the walking dead. _

We ain't them. We still ain't them.

"Heads up," I murmur as they amble slowly toward the border.

Alpha sheds her mask, passing it off to one of the other skin freaks before striding purposefully up to the pikes.

"There was one rule between our people," she announces. "One law.  _ Stay  _ where you  _ are.  _ Yet… you disobey."

"We did you all a favor," Adie says, voice remarkably calm.

"That fire would've destroyed your land," I point out. 

"Fire's nature to burn," Alpha says breathlessly. "We have no conflict with nature."

"It could've wiped out one of our communities," Michonne snaps. "We were not gonna sit back and let that happen. You can understand that. We crossed  _ one  _ time."

"Three times," Alpha simpers. "Durin' the fire, you walked my land. And durin' the winter storm, you walked my land."

Shit. They never left. We thought… but that's only twice we crossed, the only two times I know about. I glance at Adie, but if she knows something I don't she ain't giving it away, so I turn my gaze to Michonne. She looks guilty.

"Durin' your search along the river," Alpha continues, looking Michonne dead in the eyes. "You and the man with the metal arm walked my land. That's three times. We are  _ always  _ watchin'," she takes several steps forward. "What did I tell you about crossin' my border? You have to be punished."

At that, the several skins lined up behind her produce their weapons. One of 'em has a gun. I can feel Adie tense beside me, ready to lunge for her knives or maybe just launch herself across the border at the guy with the gun, try and disarm him before he can fire. It's useless. She ain't close enough. She moves, instead, to angle her body in front of mine, slowly raising her hands in surrender. Oh, what the fuck? No. Hell, no.

"But…" Alpha says, mouth twitching into a smirk, eyeing Adie up and down. "I consider context. There will be no bloodshed this time."

"So what do you want?" Michonne demands.

"Land," Alpha says simply. "The creek that winds into the valley. That is your new southern border. We will mark the new border to the north."

"That'll cut off our hunting grounds," Carol spits. "We don't have to stand here and listen to this-"

"Carol!" Michonne barks, eyeing her sharply.

"To this…" Alpha prompts, taking a few steps to the right, stopping to stand directly in front of Carol. "What?"

"To this  _ bullshit, _ " Carol finishes.

"That's it," I mutter, turning to take Carol by the elbow and get her the hell outta here before she gets somebody killed. "Come on. We're done. Let's go."

"We're not," Alpha says placidly, rooted in place. "Not until this one lowers her eyes to my feet."

She clasps her hands in front of her, waiting patiently for something that ain't never gonna come. Carol just stares at her.

"You should fear me."

"I don't," Carol says coldly. "I look at you and I feel nothing at all."

"Is that right?" Alpha flashes a grin, the kind that makes you think of a rabid dog, before her features harden once more. "The blonde boy… screamed your name just before we took his head."

"Carol, no!" Adie hollers, lunging and forcing Carol's arm down, the shot from her hidden gun hitting the ground.

Adie knocks the gun from Carol's hand, then snatches it from the grass, holding it up in the air, handle pointed at Alpha.

"Stop," I order, grabbing Carol's arms and holding her in place. "Stop!"

"I apologize," Michonne breathes, nearly toe to toe with Alpha. "For my friend. We have not slept. And you  _ know _ what she lost."

"I forgive you," Alpha says, her gaze sliding from Michonne to Carol, voice dripping with faux kindness. "Mother to mother."

She steps forward and I'm afraid for a moment she's gonna cross the border and kill Carol anyway, but she don't. She grabs hold of Henry's pike, wrapping her fingers around the gnarled wood and pulling it up out of the ground.

"This is my land now," she announces. "You better run."

"Come on, let's go," I murmur, grabbing Carol's bow and quiver from the ground and pushing her away from the border. "Let's go."

Adie plucks up my bow and our knives, the others retrieving their own weapons, and we run.

*Adrienne's POV*

It's gonna be another sleepless night. We set up a small camp a couple miles from the old border, got a fire going. Daryl made this weird tree bark tea. It's bitter and tastes about the way you'd imagine a tree tasting, but it's warm and supposedly gonna help us stay alert despite nearly two days with no sleep. Daryl makes tea now. I still can't do much of anything useful but fight. Sometimes it feels like he grew more than I did over those six years apart. He's more comfortable with himself. Daryl I met at the quarry in Atlanta would never make tea. Then again, Adie from the quarry never would've stopped Carol tonight. I guess maybe I've grown some, too.

"Give me my gun."

Speaking of Carol.

"You gonna run off and shoot her when no one's lookin'?" I demand, nerves still a little frayed.

"What are you, my mother?" Carol scoffs. "Give it back."

"You could've started a  _ war  _ back there," I point out coldly, pulling her gun from my waistband and practically shoving it into her outstretched hand.

"I didn't start shit," she hisses, glaring off into the night. " _ She  _ did."

"If you'd  _ taken _ that  _ shot, _ " I snap. "You'd've gotten us all killed. You see that, don't you?"

"Hey!" Michonne cuts in before Carol can retort, placing a calming hand on my shoulder before turning her attention to the other woman. "Listen. I know that you're dealing with-"

"The bitch has to die," Carol says simply, almost no emotion in her face at all.

She stalks off, right past Daryl, and disappears into the trees. I move to follow her, but Michonne stops me.

"Stop."

"We can't just let her-"

"She doesn't need a babysitter, Adie."

"Yes," I hiss. "She  _ does. _ "

"She ain't been the same since she got off that boat," Daryl says quietly. "Maybe she's better off on it. Found some peace, you know?"

"Hey," Michonne breathes. "She belongs with us."

"She ain't sleepin', either," Daryl continues. "She's out all night lookin' for 'em."

"She has to stop," I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. "She can't see it, or maybe she just doesn't  _ want  _ to, but she's gonna get somebody hurt."

"I-"

Before Michonne can utter a single additional syllable, a gunshot shatters the night. I take off in the direction Carol had gone. She's running from or chasing after something, I don't know. I don't see anything here at all. I've almost caught up to her when she trips, tumbling to the ground.

"Shit," she mutters, picking herself up just as Daryl and Michonne reach us.

"What happened?" Daryl questions, eyes flickering around the wood, searching for some kind of threat.

"Whisperers," Carol informs us, pointing. "Three of 'em."

"Walkies on," Michonne commands Laura and the others. "North, west. We'll take east. Capture! Do  _ not  _ kill!"

*Daryl's POV*

"All right," Michonne pants into her walkie, she and Adie stomping into view. "I'll meet you back at the creek."

We'd split up, she and Adie veering south while Carol and me kept going east. We didn't find anything. Not a damn thing. Adie radioed us, telling us to stay put, she and Michonne were coming to meet us. Carol's in the middle of popping another one of them pills, but quickly stows the bottle in her jacket, trying to hide it before Michonne catches her. She wasn't fast enough. Adie I think already knew about 'em, but the look on Michonne's face… she didn't.

"No sign of them anywhere," she announces. "No traces, no tracks, nothing."

Adie's scowling, glaring at the ground. Michonne turns her attention to Carol.

"You sure you saw three?"

"Yeah," Carol says, affronted. "I'm sure."

"Carol…" Michonne says carefully. "How long you been taking those pills for?"

"Since I got back," Carol snaps, rolling her eyes. "It's  _ fine,  _ they're like coffee."

"That's what I used to tell people about cocaine," Adie huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

"We can't stay out here," Carol insists, ignoring her entirely.

"All right," I dip my head, deciding it's best not to argue with her. "Find a place with walls, hole up for a little while. Get some sleep."

Back when Merle was fucking around with crystal, it was usually easier to just go along with whatever bullshit he was on. Safer. I exchange a glance with Adie. She gets it. I know she does 'cause she don't argue.

"There's a school," she sighs, turning on her heel and leading the way. "Barnett. Half mile from here."

-

Michonne radioed it in, instructing Laura and the others to meet us at the school. They were a bit further out but it don't take 'em long to catch up. The school is shaped like a U, two long hallways with back entrances framing the main building. We break into two groups, Michonne and the others on one side of the U, Adie, Carol, and me on the other. We'll clear the hallways and meet in the middle. Adie ain't talking much, stalking through the hallway several lengths ahead of me and Carol, both knives out like she's itching for a fight. She ducks into a classroom a few doors down, half a snarl and a loud thud echo down the hallway before she emerges just seconds after she'd gone in. I shake my head, leaving her to her own devices and peering through the broken out window on another door. Ain't nothin' here.

"It's clear," I mutter, turning to Carol.

She nods and I continue on down the hallway. Adie's already reached the end, now on the other side of the hall, ducking in and out of rooms, slash-thudding her way back towards us. At least, I think it's us until I realize Carol ain't moving anymore. She's frozen, staring down in horror at a textbook she's clutching in one hand.

"Hey," I murmur, startling her. "Come on."

She drops the book, falling into step behind me. We catch up to Adie and the three of us duck into the small cafeteria at the end of the hallway. It's clear.

"I'll take first watch," Carol announces, already moving back out into the hallway.

"All right," I nod, like it was a question.

Almost the moment she's out of view, there's a popping noise followed by something rattling against plastic. God damn it. Adie sighs, sinking down onto the floor in the corner of the room. I peer out around the door frame just in time to see Carol toss back another pill. She don't even look at me, just stares pointedly down the hall, almost like she's daring me to say something. I let it go. Ain't got the energy for this right now, even if I thought I could convince her to knock this shit off. I settle down beside Adie, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She curls into me, her head dropping to rest against my chest.

"I don't know how to help her," she whispers softly, her breath tickling my neck.

"You can't," I sigh. "Not if she don't want you to."

"Yeah," she nods. "Yeah, I know, I just wish…"

She trails off like she don't even know what she wishes, but I get it. She ain't never been on this side of the fence, watching someone she loves fall into this kinda shit. I've been here plenty, with my mom. Merle. There ain't nothin' we can do except just be here.

"I know," I press my lips to the top of her head. "It sucks."

She's quiet, her body growing heavier, breaths deeper, and she's asleep in minutes. I close my eyes for a little bit, trying like hell to get there, too, but I can't stop worrying about Carol, especially when I hear her get up and wander off. Probably just restless, needing to move around some. She ain't never been like this before, not even after Sophia died. She'd shut down, numb out for a while, but she never used or nothin'. Maybe if I didn't ask her to stay, maybe she'd be sleeping on that deck under the stars or whatever. Maybe this is my fault. After almost a full 30 minutes, I'm really starting to worry, so I shift Adie's head over onto the med bag, careful not to wake her. She ain't usually this out of it, but she's pretty much dead to the world right now, the only sign she'd registered movement at all being a deep sigh, her brows furrowing in her sleep. I don't wanna leave her like this and I'm about to nudge her awake when I hear Carol shuffle back down the hallway. I meet her just outside the door.

"Hey," I blurt. "You all right? Where'd you go?"

"What?" She blinks, confused.

"You been gone a half hour."

"Uh… patrol," she says, not quite meeting my eyes. "Thought I heard something."

I don't believe her.

"I'm  _ fine, _ " she insists. "This isn't your dad seeing a ghost."

"What?"

"The story of the girl," she explains. "When your dad was a truck driver."

What the hell is she talking about?

"My dad wasn't a truck driver."

Her timer alarm goes off and she crouches down, snatching it from the floor and silencing it. I glance through the doorway into the other room. Adie's still fast asleep.

"Shift's up," I murmur, turning my gaze back to Carol.

She just cranks the timer, setting it back on the tile floor before reaching into her pocket for that fucking bottle of pills.

"Come on," I say, watching her dump the last pill into her palm. "Don't take that."

She don't listen, tossing the pill into her mouth and dry swallowing it just like Merle used to do.

"One more hour."

I just stare at her. I ain't sure how the fuck she got all messed up like this. Think I'm gonna knock that new doctor on his ass when we get home for giving her them pills in the first place.

" _ One _ hour," she repeats adamantly.

"All right."

I duck back into the cafeteria, dropping back down to the floor by Adie. At least she's getting some sleep tonight. She might be the only one.

*Adrienne's POV*

I wake with a start, a loud crash from somewhere else in the school jolting me back into consciousness. Daryl's already up.

"What was that?" I hiss, allowing him to pull me to my feet.

"I dunno," he murmurs, listening.

There's nothing. No other noise at all. But something doesn't feel right.

"Where's Carol?"

"Patrol."

There's something weird in his tone, like he doesn't actually mean patrol when he says it, but before I can ask what the hell that's about, a gunshot pierces the air.

"Adie!" Carol's muffled shriek follows. "Daryl! Help!"

Daryl and I take off in the direction of the sound, Michonne, Laura, and the others meeting us in the hallway. We tear through the place, finding her in the gymnasium, surrounded by a pile of dead walkers and bleeding. Badly.

-

"Doc!" Daryl hollers, he, Michonne, and I shuffling into the infirmary toting a barely conscious Carol.

We hauled ass home when we realized how bad the cut really is. She says she was caught in a trap, hanging from the ceiling, but she cut herself down and landed on a bunch of broken glass. A shard of it went through her wrist. If we pulled it, she'd have bled out.

"What happened?" Siddiq demands.

"She fell," Daryl tells him, helping lay Carol down on one of the beds while Dante begins gathering tools. "She cut her arm real bad."

"Easy," Siddiq soothes, eyeing the shard protruding from Carol's arm. "Gonna need you all to leave."

We show ourselves out, taking up a silent vigil on the front porch. I fully expected to come home to walkers swarming the gate, but they got that handled while we were gone. I almost wish they hadn't, that there were some straggler corpses I could take out. The calm and quiet only make the waiting that much longer. Still, it's probably only been twenty minutes when Siddiq and Dante emerge from inside.

"Is she all right?" Michonne questions.

"She, um…" Siddiq trails off. "I…"

"He got it out," Dante announces, grinning. "She's all patched up and out like a light."

"Great," Daryl breathes, nodding thanks to Siddiq as he ducks back inside.

Michonne and I follow him, the three of us pulling up seats at her bedside. She really is out, her face pale and slack. At least she's sleeping. She's alive. We can figure this out. She's gonna be okay.


	18. Us Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: contains smut

**Chapter 18**

"You still haven't slept?"

Michonne's slumped over on a barstool in the kitchen, just staring blankly at a bowl of fruit on the counter. I sink onto the stool next to her, plucking an apple from the bowl and biting into it noisily. I never claimed to be ladylike.

"No," she sighs. "Not yet."

"What're you waitin' on?"

"You shouldn't talk with your mouth full."

"Sorry," I swallow, chuckling softly. "You should get some sleep. Council can hold down the fort for a few hours."

"I know," she nods. "I wanted to…"

She trails off as Carol enters the kitchen. Despite the blood loss, she actually looks better than she has in weeks. A little chalky, still tired, but better. Guess whatever sedative Siddiq gave her did its job.

"Mornin'," I chirp around another mouthful of apple, wiping a dribble of juice from my mouth on the back of my hand.

*How is it?" Michonne asks softly.

"Hurts," Carol mutters, glancing down at the pink bandage wrapped around her arm. "Being back here hurts, too. And that's her fault," she announces, her eyes flickering from my face to Michonne's. "You shouldn't have stopped me."

"There were eight of us out there," Michonne points out. "We  _ had _ to think of them."

"I know," Carol nods, almost contrite enough to be sincere. "But I did see them."

"Only you did."

It's almost like Carol didn't hear Michonne at all, like that last sentence goes right over her head.

"Where's Daryl?" She questions flatly, eyes darting around the room like he might be hiding from her.

"The porch," I tell her, lifting an invisible cigarette to my lips.

She leaves, off in search of my husband, apparently done talking to us. I sigh, rolling my apple around in my hands.

"She won't be pissed at you forever," Michonne says, guessing at my thoughts.

"She could be."

"She won't," Michonne insists. "You have to remember what she's goin' through. What she lost."

"I get it," I snap, voice coming out sharper than I intended. "I get it," I repeat, softening. "My baby never got a chance to walk around, but…"

"I didn't mean it like that," she breathes, guilt flashing in her eyes.

"I know you didn't," I assure her, swiping away the one tear that had escaped me. "Remember when I told you I didn't wanna be a mom?" She nods. "I did. I just didn't know it until…" I chuckle sadly, sniffing. "We were gonna try again, you know? We were ready. Then…"

She nods, tears brimming in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. I don't have to tell her what happened. She knows better than anybody. It's quiet for a moment.

"Did he tell you…" she trails off, at a loss.

"Tell me what?"

Whatever it is, she can't bring herself to answer. I'm not an imbecile, though. I've noticed the scars. Twin marks on her and Daryl both, X's on their backs. Like they were branded. He hasn't said how they got them and I haven't asked because I know… I know a scar like that comes from something horrific and I'm not gonna make either of them relive it. I can't help but wish I'd been here, been able to stop it or...

"Michonne?"

"Yeah?"

"I… I'm glad it's us again," I tip my face towards the ceiling, blowing out a sigh, feeling like those words aren't quite adequate. "So much has changed,  _ we  _ have changed, but bein' back here… it feels right. Like… god, I'm fuckin' this up, huh?"

"I know what you mean," she chuckles, grinning, wiping her tears away and getting to her feet. "I do."

She squeezes my shoulder, striding from the room, but before she leaves she turns back.

"I'm glad it's us, again, too."

*Daryl's POV*

I ain't sure why, but I expected it to be Adie when I heard them doors open behind me. It's like my brain is trying to make up for all that time apart, just conjuring her up outta thin air and dropping her in places she ain't. It's Carol, silently stepping out onto the deck. I'm glad to see her, but I wish she'd slept longer. She needs it.

"Pink suits you," I quip, eyeing her bandage with a chuckle.

She huffs out a courtesy laugh that don't sound genuine and I can tell she's got some shit on her mind, so I wait. She'll talk eventually. Or she won't. I ain't gonna make her. I suck on my cigarette, holding smoke in my lungs just a second longer than necessary before blowing it out and watching it disappear. I wish I didn't love this so much.

"She doesn't believe me," Carol blurts, and I ain't sure who she means, 'cause it could be Michonne or Adie or both.

She's quiet for a minute and I take another drag, waiting. I ain't sure I believe her, either. I believe  _ she  _ saw what she saw. No one else did.

"Do you?" She questions, like she's reading my thoughts off the back of my head or some shit.

I glance over at her, looking her in the eyes, and nod, holding my cigarette between my teeth so I can fidget with both hands.

"Yeah."

I look back down at my lap and hope she don't think I'm lying to her. I ain't telling her the whole truth I guess, but I don't want her to go off and do something stupid on her own 'cause she feels like she's only got herself. Maybe she'll get better if she knows she's still got us.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Uh-huh," Michonne chuckles, tapping the corner of her mouth and eyeing Judith. "Ketchup face."

Figures Eugene would find a way to make ketchup a thing in the apocalypse. Judy giggles, dabbing at her lips, and it reminds me so much of Carl at her age I can't help but tear up a little bit. There was this one time at the quarry camp, Glenn and I had scavenged an entire box of those cheese and crackers snacks, the kind with the little red stick for spreading, and Carl lit up like we'd brought him a puppy. He'd ended up with cheese spread all around his mouth, giggling just like his sister is now. Only he didn't bother with a napkin. He just stuck his tongue out and swirled it around his lips like a goddamn propeller. Lori was horrified, which made it even funnier to me.

"Hey," Daryl greets, dropping into the seat beside me, stopping to give me a peck on the cheek before digging in. "Looks good."

"Pleh," RJ gripes, poking a tomato slice with his finger, glaring at it suspiciously.

"Come on," I chuckle, harpooning a tomato slice from my own plate and popping it into my mouth. "Just try one bite. They're yummy."

RJ opts to hide his entire head under his napkin.

"Oh, my god." I glance around the room, faux panic dripping from my voice. "Where'd he go?"

The little boy just giggles to himself, thinking he's so slick. I chuckle and pour Daryl a glass of water, leaving the kid to his own devices. Michonne just shakes her head, focusing instead on smashing blackberries onto her bread, topping it off with cream cheese. It amazes me the things we have now. There's a woman here who makes cheeses -yes, plural- and butter and pickles and nearly everyone in our communities can grow food, even if only out of necessity. Yeah, maybe living with Alpha's borders isn't ideal, but we're still thriving.

"Is that good?" Judith questions, wrinkling her nose.

"It's very good," Michonne nods, tearing off a piece and holding it out for her to try. "It's very good. Here."

"Oh, on my-" Judith taps her cheek, bursting into another fit of giggles. "Right here."

"No," Michonne grins despite herself, retracting her hand. "Actually, no."

"Adie, you got somethin'..." Daryl trails off, chewing and squinting at my face.

"Where?" I question, picking up my napkin.

"There," he says, tapping the end of my nose with a ketchup covered finger.

I blink in surprise, then laugh despite myself, crossing my eyes and attempting to reach the ketchup blob with the tip of my tongue.

"Oh, come on now, am I the only adult at this table?" Michonne demands when her children erupt into laughter, chuckling to herself.

"Probably," Daryl smirks.

I can't argue. I'm busy licking ketchup off my nose.

*Daryl's POV*

I can't help but notice a couple people who ain't at the table with us. There's a plate set out for Carol, but she never came down. I'd like it if Lydia would start eating at the table with us, too. It'd be good for her, make her feel more welcome. Give her a sense of what a family is supposed to be like. She used to just stay in her room, wait for Adie or me to take her something, but she comes to the table most nights now, grabbing a plate to go. That's progress. She's going at her own pace. She'll come around. I did.

After dinner's finished, Michonne, Adie and the kids start on cleanup while I put together a tray for Carol. Makes me think of the time she brought me dinner in bed, that day on the farm I'd fallen onto my own goddamn arrow like a dumbass. Feels like lifetimes ago. I carry the tray upstairs, carefully balancing it on one arm and knocking on her door. She's in there, I can hear her, but she don't answer. I ain't gonna make her. I set the tray just outside her door. Best I can do. I drift back down the stairs, passing Michonne and RJ on their way to the boy's bath time. I had every intention of helping finish the dishes, but something, I don't know what, stops me when I reach the kitchen. I lean against the door frame, just watching.

"What do you mean, you don't know the meatball song?" Adie demands, affronted, passing a sudsy plate to the little girl beside her.

"I mean I don't know it," Judith sasses, dunking the plate into the rinse water before placing it carefully into the dish drainer next to the sink. "Maybe I'd know it if I heard it, though."

"Oh, man," Adie chuckles. "Get ready, 'cause this song is gonna change your life."

She makes a big production out of clearing her throat, plucking a fork from the wash water and holding it in front of her face like a microphone.

"On top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese… I lost my poor meatball when somebody sneezed."

"Adie," Judith giggles, bumping her shoulder into the redhead. "That's not a real song."

"Yes, it is!" Adie insists, then continues with her performance. "It rolled off the table, it rolled on the floor, and then my poor meatball rolled out of the door…"

By the time she's finished with the song, they got all them dishes done and Judy's laughing her ass off at the idea of a meatball bush. It ain't hard to imagine Adie being a mom on nights like this. She catches my eye and grins and how the fuck does she still make my heart beat so damn fast?

"You used to sing to me all the time," Judith announces, drying her hands on the yellow dishrag looped over the oven handle. "When I was little."

"You're probably thinkin' of Beth," Adie says quietly, her grin fading into a sadder sort of smile. "She used to sing you to sleep on the nights you were keepin' the whole prison awake."

"No, but I remember you singing," Judith insists. "Or… well, I think I remember. Uncle Daryl says you used to sing all the time."

"Does he?" Adie smirks, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah," I shrug, trying not to let her see me blush. "And you were good, too."

She flushes and wraps her arms around herself, her eyes dropping to the floor. Fuck, I love her.

*Adrienne's POV*

"So," I huff, flopping down next to Daryl on our couch. "I need a shower."

He squints at me quizzically from beneath the hair perpetually hanging in his eyes.

"All right."

"You also need a shower," I point out, arching an eyebrow.

Something darkens behind his eyes, his gaze damn near setting me on fire where I sit when it dawns on him what I'm getting at.

"You tryin' to get in my pants, Mrs. Dixon?"

"No, of course not," I scoff. "I'm tryin' to get you out of 'em. In the interest of water conservation."

"Water conservation," he snorts, rolling his eyes. "All right."

"You really wanna be difficult about this?"

"No."

In one swift motion, he's up off the couch and I'm in his arms, trying and failing to stifle my giggles while he carries me up the stairs.

"Gettin' too old for this shit," he quips, pushing the bathroom door open and setting me on the counter.

"Well, old man, if you'd let me walk," I smirk, lifting my shirt over my head and tossing it to the floor.

"Hell, no," he murmurs, eyes raking over my body. "Gives me a good reason to grab your ass."

"You can't do that just 'cause you want to?" I question, crooking a finger at him.

"There's a whole lotta shit I wanna do," he points out, moving towards me, nudging my legs apart and stepping to stand between them, stomach flush with the edge of the counter.

God, he makes me dizzy. I drape my arms over his shoulders, weaving my fingers through his hair and pulling his lips to mine, kissing him hard. He matches it, his mouth moving hungrily with mine, biting and sucking on my bottom lip, leaving me swollen and buzzing. The heat of him combined with the coolness of the mirror against my back sends ripples of pleasure over my skin, gooseflesh erupting on my arms, and he groans into my mouth when his hands slip up under my bra and his thumbs find my nipples, straining under his touch.

"What kinda shit?" I pant, heart thundering in my chest. "What do you wanna do to me?"

He drags his teeth down my throat, his breath hot on my skin, and bites me right over the fabric, hard, one hand slipping down to unbuckle my belt.

"This," he says softly, voice like velvet, rolling my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "And this."

Without warning, he's grabbing my hips and pulling me forward, off the counter, sinking to his knees in front of me, the tip of his tongue swirling over my belly button as he roughly yanks my pants down my legs. He leans forward, his nose pressed against my panties, inhaling deeply and growling to himself. I grip the counter top, fingers curling over the edge, and I'm fucking  _ flooding  _ wet, desperate for him. I try to kick my boots off, but he's suddenly got an iron grip around my ankles.

"No."

His voice isn't velvet anymore, it's gravel and rust and sends another rush of heat down, down, down, and I can feel myself soaked and dripping and he's  _ teasing _ me, hooking his index finger over my panties and dragging them lower, just low enough, his fingernail scraping over my clit, an exquisite torture that sends me out of my mind and is gone too fast, replaced by cool air. He's blowing on me, his knuckle resting between my folds, so close I can feel myself clenching tight, desperately trying to pull him inside me.

"God damn it, Daryl," I breathe.

He smirks up at me, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"There somethin' you need?"

"You know damn well what I need," I hiss, groaning in frustration.

"Say it."

Oh, this is so unfair. It's payback for all my teasing while we were at Oceanside, I know it. He knows I have a hard time with certain words, with saying them out loud, the fucker.

"You can have it," he murmurs sweetly, pressing his lips to my clit, slowly pulling my panties down to join the jeans around my ankles. "Jus' gotta say it."

His mouth closes around my clit and I bite back a cry of pleasure, knees giving out, elbows slamming hard into the countertop as he hooks my legs over his shoulders, his hands cupping my ass, and drags his tongue up my slit.

*Daryl's POV*

I fucking love this. I love that she can't hold herself up, that she's about to crack and beg me for it, that  _ I  _ do this to her. She looks so beautiful, head thrown back, hair pooling on the counter, her stomach muscles rolling in time with her breath. I dip the tip of my tongue inside her, just the tip, her pussy clenching like it's trying to suck me in, and she claps her thighs around my head, grinding her clit against my nose. I grab her thighs and spread her open, pushing until the tops of her thighs are pressed flush against the edge of the countertop. She shifts, scrambling back on her elbows, almost like she's afraid she's gonna fall, but I ain't gonna let her. I ain't gonna give her what she wants, neither, not til she asks.

"Please…" she whines, locking eyes with me, trying to stare me down like she's in any state to be stubborn.

"Please what?" I chuckle, watching as her lip starts to tremble. "What do you need, sweetheart?"

"Just…"

Her brows furrow, her eyes narrowing determinedly. 

"I need your cock."

My stomach does a barrel roll in my guts, watching that word tumble from her pretty mouth.

"Please," she whispers, hips bucking desperately. "Please, Daryl, fuck me, I just… I just need…"

I shove my tongue into her pussy, dropping one of her legs so I can rub her clit with my thumb, fucking her with my mouth, and when she comes it's violent, like she's shattering at my touch, and when I let her down, she drops to the floor and crawls over me, her lips on mine, her tongue lapping at my mouth, my chin, tasting herself, and she's tearing at my clothes like a woman possessed and I'm thinking maybe I should tease her more often and I'm thinking maybe we're not even gonna make it to the shower, that we're just gonna fuck right here on the floor.

"You're an ass," she rasps, hot breath against my ear, climbing onto my lap and sinking down on my cock.

"Yeah, well..." I grunt, bucking up into her. "You like it."

She don't answer, just grins, reaching down between our bodies, circling her clit furiously with one finger, and she's coming again, head thrown back while she rides it out, and I feel like one of them plasma ball lamp things, like there's lightning in my body everywhere she touches, and she's so fucking tight, and I'm spilling into her before I want to, white light tearing through my body and stealing my breath. She collapses against me, panting, her ear pressed against my thundering chest while I soften inside her.

"I like it," she murmurs breathlessly, and I'm too spent to do nothin' but lay here under her. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

I ain't sure how long we're stuck like this, but I could stay this way forever, nothin' but me and her and the lightning. But we can't. This ain't our bathroom. She chuckles like she just came to the same realization, disentangling herself and helping me to my feet, leading me into the shower. The hot water does nothing to help with the post-fuck, boneless euphoria, and by the time we're done I've gotten her off two more times, and even though I'm still getting too goddamn old for this shit, I'm still strong enough to carry her back down to our bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a shorter chapter, but it felt right to end there rather than jumping back into action. As always, thank you for reading!


	19. Some Messed Up Shit

**Chapter 19**

*Adrienne's POV*

"Stop!" Aaron hollers, my knife a hairsbreadth from the gut of one of our trainees. "You're dead."

I drop my blade to my side and clap Owen on the shoulder. His eyes are flickering from my face to Aaron's and back, his expression so baffled it's almost comical. We've been running the same defense sequence all morning. Michonne usually observes and sometimes helps, but she, Judith, and Eugene are taking a team out to assist Hilltop. They radioed early this morning to report a fallen tree. It collapsed the barn, trapping people inside. Nine injured, walkers building up around the walls. That's all we know right now.

"What'd I do wrong?" Owen whines.

"Your eyes were on the ground," Aaron informs him.

"You were watchin' my feet," I add. "Tryin' to predict where I was movin' to."

"Track from head to hands always," Aaron instructs, addressing the group as a whole. "Lose focus, and you  _ will  _ get killed. Remember, these people took our friends. They took our land. They must be stopped. Again."

I square off with Owen once more, my knife level with my jaw.

"Hey, Lydia!" Gage hollers, breaking my concentration.

Lydia's standing several yards away but I can tell from the look on her face she heard every word Aaron said.  _ These people. _ They were her people once, her family. We need to remember that. She's not here because it's easy. It'd be easier to go back to her mother, but she's not doing that. She's with us now and I'll be damned if anyone's gonna make her regret that. Gage pulls a burlap sack over his head, leering out at Lydia from rough cut eye holes in the fabric.

"You think mommy'll take me in?"

He cackles at himself, seemingly spurred on by the laughter of Alfred and Margo.

"Oh, right," he chuckles, removing the bag and balling it up in his hands. "No. She, she kicked your ass out. Now you're just a freak."

"Hey!" I bark, grabbing Gage by the elbow and spinning him to face me.

His eyes widen in surprise at the knife in my hand, the tip of my blade just inches from his temple.

"You're dead," I hiss. "It's that easy. That quick."

"Come on, Adie," he whimpers. "We were, we were just messin' around."

This just pisses me off further. It's the same bullshit line he tried to feed me when I reamed him and Rodney back at Hilltop for keeping a walker in a pit outside the walls.

"You are here for  _ training, _ " I spit, sheathing my knife. "If you're gonna act like a prepubescent little shit, go play with Gracie and RJ," I release him from my grasp. "And  _ you two, _ " I snap, whirling on Alfred and Margo. "Are supposed to be  _ adults.  _ Act like it or leave."

The three of them glare at me, rooted to their spots. Assholes. Gage is still just a teenager, the same as Lydia, but that's not an excuse. I turn towards Lydia only to find her already walking away.

"Let's run it again," Aaron orders.

*Daryl's POV*

"I'm not just gonna smile and take it."

Fuck. I've been looking for Lydia. I was hoping I wouldn't find her here, hiding in the clotheslines, chatting it up with Negan.  _ Again.  _ She keeps this up, she'll never be accepted here. He's barely tolerated as it is, and he's only allowed out of his cell to work 'cause we need the extra hands. He's pretty much on probation. Gabe locks him back in the cell every night. Nobody talks to him but Judith and now Lydia. Adie has to pretend he doesn't exist so she don't just kill him.

"I didn't say that," Negan points out. "But I also didn't say run and hide. I mean, shit."

"You said to kill 'em with kindness."

It's all I can do not to scoff and give myself away. I know I shouldn't be listening, that she'd see it as an invasion of her privacy, but I can't protect her if she don't talk to me or Adie.

"I did say that," Negan agrees. "Look. They are tryin' to get a reaction outta you. They wanna see you upset. Don't give that to 'em. Screw 'em."

Fuck it. I've heard enough and the longer I let her sit here, the more likely it is someone else will see 'em. I shove aside the sheet I'd been behind, ducking under the clothesline. She's cross-legged on the ground, Negan crouched next to her. He's supposed to be dead. He might as fucking well be, far as I'm concerned.

"Let's go," I order, offering Lydia my hand.

"I'm good," she protests, shrugging.

"Now."

She looks like she's gonna argue again, glaring up at me like I'm the bad guy. I don't give a shit. This is to keep her safe. She'll get that one day. She leaps to her feet and takes off.

"She is just tryin' to fit in," Negan says softly, straightening up and eyeing me all sad and shit and it just makes me wanna hit him.

"Yeah," I mutter, glaring. "Well, that ain't ever gonna happen if she hangs out with you, now, is it?"

He don't have shit to say to that and I leave him to his laundering, catching up to Lydia as she stomps towards home.

"We were just talking," she spits.

"He ain't your friend," I point out.

"He gets me."

"Just stay away from 'im, alright?"

She's got that look on her face again like she's gonna start yelling at me, throw a fit right here on the street, but something over my shoulder distracts her just as we reach our brownstone. Her face falls and I whip around. Jesus.

SILENCE

THE WHISPERS

The message is scrawled across the door in yellow chalk paint. It'll be easy enough to clean up, but the damage is done. I look back at Lydia, taking in the tears of rage welling in her eyes. She's  _ trying... _ and this shit's still happening. It ain't fair.

*Adrienne's POV*

"You're messier than Daryl," Aaron blurts.

We're all gathered in what Michonne calls the mess hall. It's multifunctional, serving as a cafeteria and also playing host to the council meetings. We've found it's easier to keep routine with designated lunch hours for the community, keep everybody on a schedule.

"Hm?" I murmur, dabbing at the bit of potato soup I can feel on the corner of my mouth. "Better?"

"Not really," he laughs, pointing out the dribbled soup stain on my chest.

"You don't like art?" I question solemnly, lifting my bowl to my lips and slurping noisily.

"Maybe you're just a little too... avant garde for my tastes," he chuckles.

"I dunno, I kinda like it," Dante muses, not so subtly eyeing me up and down.

"You like the ring on her finger, too,  _ tonto? _ " Rosita smirks.

I would've laughed at that, but something else has captured my attention. Lydia, stomping purposefully through the door and striding right up to the table where Gage is seated with Margo and Alfred. She's carrying something in her hands, wrapped in burlap and twine, which she drops heavily onto the tabletop as she sinks into the chair directly across from Margo. I crane my neck, watching as she unfolds the cloth, revealing a dead squirrel.

"Give us some room, please?" Gage sneers.

Lydia doesn't even so much as look up, opting instead to produce a knife from her belt and cut into the squirrel, sawing longways down the middle like Daryl taught her to do. Blood spurts from the carcass, splashing onto Gage's face.

"Oh, my god," he whines, horrified, leaping to his feet. "What is wrong with you? You're crazy!"

Again, no answer from Lydia. She just stares up at Gage, completely unphased, a small smirk playing on her lips. I'm not sure if I'm proud or worried.

"Is this why Ozzie and Alek died?" Alfred demands, disgusted. "So she could make a fool out of us?"

"Not here," Margo hisses, casting a wary glance in my direction before turning her gaze back to the girl in front of her.

"Shh…" Lydia whispers, raising a bloody finger to her lips.

Oh, hell.

*Daryl's POV*

"You do wanna live here, right?" I demand.

Lydia's stunt ain't exactly gonna foster good relations with the people here. Adie and me are standing side by side in the middle of Lydia's  _ 'room' _ -a stairwell we'd thrown a table and lamp into 'cause she don't feel comfortable living indoors full time just yet- and it feels weird, like we're doing some kind of good cop, bad cop co-parenting thing. I shake it off. This girl ain't got parents, somebody's gotta set her straight. Might as well be us.

"They deserved it," Lydia huffs.

"I know," I assure her. "But you can't be doin' shit like that."

"But they can just write whatever the hell they want on our door?" She demands angrily.

I glance at Adie. She shrugs. So much for co-parenting. Or maybe she's just the good cop to my bad. Oh, what the fuck, we ain't parents  _ or _ cops. I sigh, turning back to Lydia.

"I'll talk to 'em," I promise. "I'll set 'em straight."

"No, please," she blurts, eyes flickering between my face and Adie's. "I don't want you guys to fight my fight for me, okay?"

I nod. Adie says nothing. I heard about what happened at training. She held a knife on Gage. I know she was just making a point, that she didn't mean nothin' this time, but that shit didn't help things much either. The look on her face now, though… it's a shadow of the same look she had when them claimers were threatening Carl, back before Terminus. You don't hurt the people she sees as hers, that's been one of the only laws she's operated by since the day we met. When she was pregnant, she was worrying about how she don't know how to make cookies or whatever, how all she can do is fight. She don't wanna let Lydia fight this fight alone. We gotta, though.

"They want me to give up," Lydia continues, shaking her head. "I know that. But I'm not gonna, okay? I can't."

"I get it," I tell her. "Can't you just avoid 'em?"

I realize too late that ain't the right thing to say. Lydia grabs her stick, glaring and shoving past me, disappearing up the steps and out of sight.

"Great," I sigh.

"She did a nice job on the squirrel," Adie blurts. "You'd've been proud."

"You ain't helpin'."

"I thought you were handlin' it well enough, comrade," she chuckles, her arms snaking around my waist, eyes sparkling. "When I was a teenager, I'd've ditched this shit ages ago. You did good."

"Yeah," I mutter, unconvinced.

"Come on," she presses her lips to mine, pulling away before I can really even register the kiss. "We have to pick up RJ from school."

*Adrienne's POV*

The rest of the day has pretty much been uneventful. The most excitement we've had is RJ's unwillingness to try even a tiny little piece of broccoli. We promised him he could stay up an extra half hour. We promised him extra dessert. We promised him dessert for breakfast. In the end, Daryl ate the broccoli. Can't say we didn't try. He did take a bath without a fuss, though, and when we put him to bed he went right to sleep, so I'm calling our first night babysitting a win. Neither Carol or Lydia showed up for dinner which, while disappointing, came as no surprise. Daryl's taking a tray up to Carol, I suspect because Carol's still not too happy with me. She's coming down from pills still, too, so she's probably not gonna be happy with me for a while. When I was 18 and my mama checked my ass into rehab, I hated her for months. I wish I had just a little of that time back. I shake my head, willing her face from my mind. I can't think about her now. It still hurts too much.

"Lydia?" I murmur, making my way down her stairwell, tray in my hands. "You hungry?"

"Get off me!"

That's Lydia, but she's not in her room. There's a fight, sounds like it's coming from the other side of the building. I drop the tray to the ground and tear back up the steps, hurtling down the street and around the corner, damn near running headlong into Negan. Gage, Alfred, and Lydia are all on the ground. Lydia's sobbing, clinging to Negan's leg like he's salvation in boots.

"It's okay," he whispers, crouching beside her. "Shh…"

"What the hell happened?" I demand, looming over Gage.

"We were just trying to scare her," he whimpers.

" _ Scare _ her?" I snarl, yanking the boy to his feet. "You-"

"Yo, Negan!" Brandon, Negan's guard, hollers, rounding the corner. "What the hell's goin' on back here?"

"Holy shit, Margo," Alfred breathes. "Margo."

I hadn't seen her in the near-dark. She's crumpled against the wall, blood running down the brick behind her head and soaking into the dirt.

"Shit," Negan curses, eyeing the woman in horror.

"Brandon." I murmur. "Get Siddiq. Now."

Within minutes, a crowd has gathered at the scene. Things aren't looking too good for Negan and even though I still think we should've killed him, even though I can't look at him without thinking about my dead friends and the hollow I felt when I lost my baby, I believe him. He saved Judith during the storm and he just saved Lydia's life, too. But Margo's dead. Margo's dead and it doesn't matter to the people how much she deserved it, they want someone to pay and Negan is a damn convenient scapegoat.

"Shh…" I soothe, stroking Lydia's hair.

She's got her head in my lap, sobbing into my stomach. Daryl's kneeling beside us, not quite sure what to do with his hands, but strong. Solid. I never thought I'd be in Negan's corner, I truly never did, but he wasn't wrong, not this time. If I'd gotten here first, Margo's death wouldn't have been accidental. I still have half a mind to get up and execute Alfred and Gage where they stand, civilization be damned. Scare her… they beat the shit out of her. The Alexandrians and the Highwaymen want justice for Margo, but what about justice for Lydia?

"You freak," Gage spits. "This is your fault!"

"Out!" I snarl. "Get him the hell away from here."

"It was Negan!" Alfred proclaims. "Negan killed her!"

"No, he didn't do anything wrong!" Lydia cries. "No, it wasn't, he didn't do anything."

"Now, get him outta here!" Daryl orders, prompting Brandon to take hold of Negan's arms. "Move!"

"Daryl-"

"Please," Lydia sobs, cutting me off, trying to sit up. "No, he didn't do anything wrong!"

"I know." Daryl assures her, reaching down to hold her steady. "I know, I know, I know, I know. I know."

"He didn't do anything wrong."

Brandon's already escorting him away, though, and Lydia's losing her mind, thrashing around on the ground, eyes wild with worry.

"No, please!" She shrieks. "Oh, please, no. Please."

"Shh," I gather her into my arms. "Hey, hey, we know. It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay."

*Daryl's POV*

"Hold that right there," Dante instructs, helping Lydia place a rolled, frozen towel under her arm. "Easy now."

I just got to the infirmary and I was worried Lydia would be alone, but Adie's already here, watching Dante like a hawk. She don't trust him. Says he's  _ 'skeevy' _ , which is a word she swears she didn't make up but I ain't sure I believe that. Negan's back in his cell. Gage and Alfred are sitting down now, telling their side of the story. Adie and Brandon are supposed to meet with the council afterward, tell 'em what they saw. It don't feel like it matters, not really. Seems the council's just going through the motions. Everybody's decided Negan's guilty and they're ready to stick a blade through his skull themselves.

"Hey," Dante greets me, barely glancing my way before turning his attention back to Lydia. "Okay. All good?"

Lydia don't answer, which is fair response to such a stupid fucking question. She looks like shit. Of course she ain't all good. Dumbass.

"I'll be back," he announces, disappearing elsewhere within the infirmary.

"Hey," Adie murmurs, squeezing Lydia's hand before getting to her feet and meeting me at the door.

"Hey."

"I gotta go meet with the council," she sighs. "I just didn't wanna..."

She trails off, at a loss, waving her hand vaguely in the air. She's ready to put a couple more bodies in the ground and call it a night. Black and white thinking like she's always had. It still makes her feel like she ain't all human but I still think it just makes her a good leader 'cause she don't abide any bullshit. She should have a seat on the council. She don't want it, though.

"Yeah, I got it," I promise, dropping a quick kiss on her forehead before she slips out into the night.

Lydia ain't looking at me. It's like Adie left the room and everything safe went with her. I don't know how to do this shit. I never did. Looking at this broken girl, I can see Beth. Makes me think of tears in an empty shot glass and darts and peach fucking schnapps and these tears are my fault, too, 'cause I didn't save Beth and I didn't save Lydia, either.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you," I murmur. 

She still don't say nothin'. I touch her arm, just brush against her with my fingertips, like maybe she didn't hear me or maybe she ain't here at all.

"Lydia."

"He was so sweaty," she says quietly, voice breaking. "Never liked deodorant. Said it… it made his armpits itchy," she chuckles sadly. "So I got used to it. Sometimes he smelled like garlic and onions," she continues with another sad laugh. "I miss him."

"Who's that?"

"My dad," she nods, fresh tears welling and spilling down her cheeks, eyes still on the floor. "My dad would've protected me."

I sigh, moving to sit beside her on the bed. I didn't protect her. I ain't sure what to do now except just listen, make sure she knows she ain't alone. I'm gonna make it right.

"Tell me what happened."

"Negan saved my life," she says firmly, her eyes snapping to mine.

She ain't lying. I know she ain't. Negan saved her. I wrap my arm around her shoulder and she buries herself in my chest, tears soaking through my shirt. I'm gonna fix this. Eventually, Dante breezes back into the room, rattling off a list of instructions and sending us on our way with a bottle of pain relievers. She don't put up a fuss when I take her home and get her settled on the couch in our basement. The pain pills and mild sedative Dante gave her have her out like a damn light within twenty minutes. I think part of me was hoping it'd take longer 'cause now I don't have a reason not to see Negan. I make my way down to his cell. He's just laying here on his cot, hand curled into a fist and resting on his forehead. He ain't stupid. He knows he's hanging by a thread.

"How's the kid doin'?" He questions quietly.

"She's banged up," I murmur. "But she'll be alright."

He sighs, dropping his hand down to his side. He don't bother sitting up, though.

"You know, the people out there are talkin' 'bout puttin' you down," I announce, wrapping my fingers around a couple cell bars and leaning forward to get a better look at him. "Sayin' Rick ain't around to save you no more, maybe they should've done it a long time ago."

"If you came here lookin' for a confession…" he sighs, turning his head to look at me before deciding to roll himself into a sitting position. "Just keep walkin'. It was an accident. And for the record,  _ screw _ her. She was a fuckin' asshole beatin' on a kid. World's better off. But you already know that, don't you?" He chuckles. "You came down here to look me in the eye because you don't know what to do with me."

God, I fucking hate him for being right. I hate him almost as much as I always have, but the truth is he saved Lydia. He saved Judith, too. There's just one thing that's bugging me about it.

"Shit," he continues. "All that time you spent fantasizin' about my death, all that time you actually tried to kill me, and  _ Mrs. Daryl _ came pretty damn close to actually finishing the job, but now look at you… you're not so sure."

"You listen to me," I growl, glaring through the bars at his smug fucking face. "Real close. You and I ain't never been in a room before, not toe to toe. And there ain't nobody to save you right now."

"What do you want me to do, Daryl?" He shrugs. "I mean, the people out there, they are out for blood. Guys like you and me, we can fuckin'  _ smell  _ that shit from a mile away."

"Why help Lydia?" I demand. "You ain't no hero."

"No," he agrees. "No, I'm not. I'm a fuckin' sucker. See, I started believin' in your way of life, your… moral code. Hell, you even gave me a little taste of freedom, just so you could yank it away when I actually did the right thing. You gotta admit, that is pretty messed up. And we both know I appreciate some messed up shit."

"You're gonna get your chance to tell your side," I mutter, turning away and showing myself out.

I ain't far enough gone to not hear him when he murmurs something else under his breath.

"Who's the sucker now?"

Yeah. Sounds about right.


	20. You Don't Belong In A Cage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Some pre-smuttishness

**Chapter 20**

When I emerge from the cell, Carol's on our front steps. Ain't sure if she's just getting some air or if she's keeping watch, but either way it's nice to actually  _ see _ her for a minute.

"Hey," I greet.

"Hey," she echoes.

"How you feelin'?"

"Sore."

"I bet," I chuckle, even though it ain't really funny.

"I heard what happened," she announces.

"Yeah," I dip my head, making my way up the steps and sinking down beside her. "It's a mess."

"Everybody's talkin' about Negan again. It's like time never moves."

I disagree but I ain't gonna bother trying to explain why. Time's always moving. It's us that ain't.

"What do you think?" She questions.

"I don't give a shit about him," I mutter. "I believe her, though. I do."

"This is a distraction," she points out. "Hilltop's got a tree through its walls. Alexandria was attacked."

"Well," I blurt, shrugging. "We don't know that yet."

"Our real enemy is out there."

"There's enough bad stuff happenin' in here," I murmur. "I'm afraid if we don't fix it, it ain't gon' matter what she does to us," I touch her leg and get to my feet, walking back down the stairs. "There won't be anything left."

"Should've gone to New Mexico."

"Yeah," I sigh.

I fucking wish. We can't just leave, though. I see that now. Part of me wants to just take Adie and move back out into the woods or get on the bike and  _ go, _ be away from all the bullshit and the constant fighting that comes with living with people. She'd never go for it. She needs to be around people and I need to be around her. I ain't gonna leave.

-

"Everything alright?" I question into the radio. "I've been tryin' to reach you."

"Rough day, but…" Michonne's voice crackles from the speakers, exhausted and frayed. "Things are looking up. What's goin' on?"

"Somethin' happened."

I hate that I gotta be the one to tell her, but Adie still ain't done arguing with the council and I guess with all of them busy I'm next in charge. I fill her in, tell her what happened with Lydia and Negan and she's quiet, just listening, but I can feel her holding her breath.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Lydia  _ lured  _ you there?" Gabe repeats, eyeing Gage dubiously.

I'd gotten here before I was technically supposed to. Brandon hasn't shown, which is weird 'cause he's kinda nosy and eats up any kind of attention he can get, but I don't mind him not being here. It's easier to concentrate without him chattering in my ear. 

"Yeah," Gage insists. "You saw what she did with the squirrel, she's psycho."

"And Negan was with her," Alfred adds.

"If you thought Lydia was crazy, why'd you agree to meet her back there in the dark?" Gabe demands.

"Um… well, we…" Gage stutters, fishing for anything he could use to dig his way out of that hole.

"Hey, we're the ones who were attacked here," Alfred snaps defensively.

"Attacked?" I echo derisively. "By a teenage girl?"

"Negan-"

"Wasn't there," I spit, cutting Gage off before he can formulate a full sentence. "So, you-"

"Adie," Gabe warns.

"Let me finish, please," I state calmly, holding up a hand. "So. You say you were attacked, forcin' the three of you to band together and  _ defend  _ yourselves, which, by the way, isn't what you were sayin' happened earlier, but I understand this has been a harrowin' evenin' for you. But the bullshit narrative you're workin' with now is self defense, right? So, despite a full grown man  _ allegedly _ present at the scene, a dangerous  _ criminal, _ somehow, the three of you saw  _ Lydia  _ as the bigger threat? Such a threat that she's lyin' in the infirmary with broken  _ bones,  _ and you all walked away without a  _ scratch? _ "

"Our friend is in a  _ grave, _ " Alfred hisses.

"Yeah," I nod. "She is. Because you and your  _ friend _ were beatin' the shit out of a  _ kid _ and, in a remarkably convenient stroke of good luck, you all got caught by the  _ one person _ no one would believe. Margo deserved-"

"Adrienne!" Gabe barks. "That's enough."

"But-"

"Go home," he orders. "Take care of Lydia."

I leap to my feet, shoving my chair in hard enough the legs squeal across the floor.

"Fine," I nod curtly. "I'll go. But just so we're clear,  _ father... _ the next time these two assholes," I jerk my thumb in Gage and Alfred's general direction, then curl my fingers into air quotes. "Just try to scare her…" I drop my hands to my sides, voice near whispering now. "If this happens again, you best  _ pray  _ Negan gets to 'em before I do."

*Daryl's POV*

"Negan's on the right side this time," I mutter. "I don't know if it's gonna make any difference, though."

"Should I come home?" Michonne questions, worried.

She should be. This thing is fragile like a bomb and I don't know if I can stop it. But she can't, either. Don't matter if she's here or not.

"No," I sigh. "Not if Hilltop still needs you."

"How's Lydia?"

"Not good."

"Daryl, you have to protect her."

"Yeah, well, I'm tryin'."

"No. You  _ have  _ to protect her for  _ all  _ of us. When we went to the border, we went there to de-escalate the conflict and buy time and strategic advantage."

"Yeah," Adie huffs from the doorway, startling the shit out of me. "Well, Carol fucked that up."

Guess her meeting with the council didn't go so great. She's fuming.

"And it was working," Michonne continues, oblivious to Adie's sudden appearance. "Til Carol took her shot. Alpha could've killed us right there. Why didn't she?"

"You think she won't attack if we got Lydia?" I question, exchanging a glance with Adie.

"Alpha wanted you to _protect_ her. Look, Lydia's presence _might_ not help us, but if Alpha thinks she isn't safe with us or if Lydia runs off because of all this, it'll _definitely_ hurt us. She _has_ to stay at Alexandria."

"All right," I sigh. "I'll make sure."

"Let's just keep this between us for now."

"Okay," Adie chirps into the mic.

Michonne's silent for a moment, probably debating whether or not to ask how much Adie overheard. It don't matter, it's safe with her.

"Hi, Adie," she says eventually, equal parts annoyed and amused. "How's RJ?"

"He's great," I tell her. "He won't eat his vegetables… so I'm a little afraid for 'im."

She just chuckles. Guess that whole broccoli negotiation wasn't as dire as we thought. I turn to Adie, raising an eyebrow. She frowns, tapping her wrist where a watch would sit if she ever bothered to wear one.

"Hey, the council's meetin' right now," I inform Michonne.

"Daryl…" she murmurs. "I want you to be my proxy when they vote."

"Alright," I agree. "I should go."

"I know you'll do the right thing."

Yeah, I hope so. Adie offers me her hands, pulling me out of my seat like I'm a fucking geriatric or some shit. I don't hate it, though. Gotta take them little moments of her skin on mine where I can get 'em. It's by that reasoning I decide to push her up against the wall and kiss her hard, pressing my hands flat on either side of her head, caging her in with my body. She responds just as enthusiastically as she always does, molding herself to me, her fingers tangling in my hair. It lasts all of ten seconds, but it's ten seconds of fucking nirvana.

"Go cast your vote, Lothario," she smirks breathlessly. "I'll still be here."

Lothario. I roll my eyes and she just chuckles, ducking out from under my arm and disappearing down the hallway. God damn, if I could convince her to just run away with me… I sigh, squaring my shoulders and making my way to the mess hall.

"Hell, he…" Aaron's saying when I arrive. "Maybe he has changed. But a man like that, who's done the things he's done,  _ killed  _ the people he's killed… something inside him is  _ broken.  _ We need to face that fact."

"Yes, but killing him now, over this, undermines the civilization that we have _built,_ " Siddiq points out.

"What about the people who never got to witness that civilization  _ because _ of him?" Aaron counters.

"And what the hell are you even talking about?" Siddiq demands. "The  _ Whisperers _ are attacking us."

"Okay, let's take a break," Gabriel cuts in.

"No, let me finish," Siddiq insists angrily, leaping to his feet. "Look at what's going on at Hilltop. We're taking our eyes off the ball."

"The council wasn't made for this," Gabriel sighs. "Deciding on a man's life in the dead of night because people are carrying pitchforks and torches."

"Alright, look," I raise my hand. "If you can't make a decision, the people out there are gon' make one for you."

"Well, what'd Michonne say?" Gabriel questions.

"She wants me to be her vote," I tell him. "Lydia said Negan saved her, so he saved her. I'm a 'no'."

"So we're tied," Aaron says defeatedly.

"We could bring Adie back in," Siddiq suggests.

"She's not on the council," Aaron hisses. "And we already know where she stands," he turns to Gabriel. "Gabriel, where do you stand?"

The priest is silent for a beat or two, then shakes his head, rising from his seat.

"I'm gonna take the night to clear my head and consider my vote," he announces. "And I suggest you all do the same."

-

"Shit," Adie sighs. "The longer they deliberate, the more likely it is somebody'll just kill 'im."

"I know."

We've decided to keep watch tonight, the two of us posted at the kitchen table, just in case. Well, I decided I was keeping watch. She followed me. Didn't want to sleep alone.

"I hate him," she announces flatly. "I still think he should've been dead a long time ago for what he did _. _ Time passes. We bring new people in, build… and we forget or we just ignore him so we can live with it, knowin' he's alive."

Her eyes are hard and flashing. Angry. I remember that shit Negan said about  _ Mrs. Daryl.  _ Me and Adie never talked about what happened. I left and she stayed and we ain't talked about Negan at all. I know what Michonne told me. That Maggie and Adie showed up here ready to kill him, but Maggie decided he didn't deserve the mercy of dying. But Adie…

"Why couldn't you kill 'im?" I blurt.

She stiffens, them hard flashing eyes turning glassy and far away.

"He wouldn't fight back," she says quietly. "I was... he  _ wanted _ it, that's why Maggie couldn't, but I… I needed him to pay. Maggie pulled me off of him. I would've beaten him to death."

"But you didn't," I point out, taking her hand in mine, stroking my thumb over her knuckles. "And he was here to save Lydia."

"It's not enough," she sighs, brows furrowing. "He's not a changed man, people like that don't change. But... he saved Lydia. I do believe that. We can't kill him now, not over this. Carol and Siddiq are right. Negan's not the enemy anymore."

If I wasn't so fucking exhausted, I might laugh. She's so indignant. Not being able to blame Negan this time pisses her right off. Kinda pisses me off, too, but being pissed don't change nothin'. It ain't his fault this time. But I still hate him, too.

*Adrienne's POV*

I read somewhere once women don't reach their sexual peak until their thirties and I guess it must be true because Daryl's thumb passing over my knuckles has suddenly become really fucking distracting. I know I'm staring and I know staring freaks him out a little, but I can't look away from our hands folded together, his skin sun-dark and mine still as pasty white as ever. I love his hands, big and rough and warm. He could break me with his touch and I'd grin and thank him for it. God, why am I even thinking about this? I feel the heat creeping up my neck, cheeks burning.

"What?" He questions, his thumb stilling.

"Nothin'."

I try to paint my face innocent, but he doesn't seem convinced. Still, he lets it go, his thumb picking up those slow strokes over my skin.

"You sure, sweetheart?"

I tear my eyes from our hands, meeting his gaze. Son of a bitch. He's trying to look passive, neutral, like he doesn't have a care in the goddamn world. But his eyes are glittering with amusement, the ghost of a smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. He  _ knows  _ what he's doing and he's doing it on purpose now. Before I can open my mouth and tell him what an asshole he's being or how unfair it is, two little feet come pattering down the stairs.

"Aunt Adie?" RJ whispers once he reaches the bottom, rubbing his eyes against the light. "Uncle Daryl?"

"What's up, bud?" I rasp, mouth dry, clearing my throat and snatching my hand from Daryl's. "You uh, you okay?"

The boy pads across the room and climbs up into my lap, curling into me.

"You have a bad dream, buddy?" Daryl asks softly.

"When is my mommy gonna be home?" RJ questions, voice muffled against my chest.

"Soon, I hope," I murmur, smoothing my hand over the soft curls he inherited from his daddy.

I wish I could give him a better answer. I wish soon didn't sound like a lie. I drop a kiss to his cheek.

"Let's go get you back to bed, okay?" I suggest.

He nods, slipping from my lap and taking my hand in his. I glance back at Daryl as I'm led up the stairs. He's watching me and god help me, the look in his eyes scorches me through. I shake my head, swallowing, and I swear I hear him chuckle to himself as I scurry down the hall.

*Daryl's POV*

Adie don't come back until dawn, shuffling down the stairs and yawning. I figured she'd fallen asleep in RJ's bed, which was fine with me 'cause keeping watch is easier when I ain't looking at her. 

"Mornin', Mrs. Dixon," I murmur.

She grins at the name, eyes lighting up like it's something special, and I swear to god my heart is literally swelling in my chest.

"Mornin', Mr. Dixon."

I expect her to drop back into the chair she'd been occupying a few hours ago, but she don't. She swings one leg over mine and settles herself on my lap, straddling me, and my swollen heart lodges itself in my throat, my dick already straining against my jeans.

"We've got a half hour," she whispers, leaning in close, her breath tickling my ear. "Before anyone's up."

She don't need to elaborate. She rocks, grinding herself against me, dragging a ragged gasp from my throat. I pull her mouth down to mine, sucking and biting at her lips while her hands fumble between us for my belt. She ain't even got the buckle halfway undone when someone starts pounding at our door.

"Oh, damn it," I growl, the two of us leaping to our feet.

Whoever the hell's visiting this fucking early just made my shit list for the foreseeable future. I stomp down the hallway, re-buckling my belt, Adie on my heels, and fling the door open, interrupting Gabriel mid-knock.

"What?" I demand.

"He's gone."

*Adrienne's POV*

"How the hell did he get out?" I demand, raking my hands through my hair.

Daryl had barely glanced at the empty cell before taking off to check the perimeter, look for a trail. He's not back yet.

"The guards say the keys are missing," Gabe sighs.

"Whoever stole them must've let him out," Aaron mutters. "Who was on watch last night?"

"Laura was," Gabe says. "But she said she didn't do it and I believe her."

"I did it," Lydia announces, materializing in the doorway and making her slow way down our front steps. "I let Negan out."

"Bullshit you did," I scoff, but she's not listening. "Lydia."

Our house is, conveniently, located just above Negan's cell. Lydia disappears down the stairs and shuts herself inside without another word.

*Daryl's POV*

"Come on," I command, pulling the cell door open. "You didn't do this."

Lydia's curled up on Negan's cot. She was out cold last night, she didn't do this. She can try and bullshit people into thinking she did, but I know she didn't.

"Yeah, I did," she says flatly.

"I kept watch last night," I sigh, calling her shit. "You never left the house."

"Does it matter?" She questions, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest. "This is where they want me."

Adie told me enough when I got back from looking for Negan's ass I know this is just a repeat of her own attempt to get Lydia out of here. She asked me to try, said maybe she'd listen if it's me.

"Doesn't matter what they want."

"You know, for a long time, I blamed myself for what happened last year. Kept thinkin'... What if I just stayed in that cell at Hilltop? If I never let myself be taken alive by you people in the first place? Never went off with Henry? Never said what I said to my mother?"

"You're not to blame for her."

"My mother was right," she insists. "She said you people put on these... polite faces, but it's just a mask. 'Cause when things get bad… when you get scared… you pick a target, aim, and shoot. Me, Negan, anything but you."

"Negan's different," I point out. "You didn't know him."

"The Negan I know stood up for me when he didn't have to," she counters. "I tried fitting in. 'Cause I wanted to be like you."

She  _ is _ like me. Blaming herself for shit that ain't her fault, thinking she's gotta be the bad guy 'cause that's who she's decided people see when they look at her and why should she try to be anything else if that's all they're ever gonna see? But she's wrong.

"You don't belong in a cage."

"I'm better here," she sniffs. "I feel safe."

I can't argue with her. She ain't gonna come out until she's damn good and ready. Just like me. I leave her, closing the cell door and stomping up the steps. She ain't alone. I'm gonna make her see that. I'm gonna make her see. If Adie or Rick or Carol or Beth, Glenn, Maggie, Michonne… they made me see. Now we gotta pay it forward, the few of us that are left. Adie's sitting on our front steps waiting for me when I emerge from the cell. She don't say nothin', just offers me a sad little smile and holds up a bucket and two scrub brushes, raising an eyebrow.

Chalk paint, it turns out, comes off easy enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the shorter chapters lately, my friends. I've returned to work after a lengthy quarantine and now all I do is work and never have time for the fun stuff -insert hysterical crying here- But I promise even though updates are a bit slower now, I am trying to work on this story consistently. My goal is to upload at least two chapters a week. Thank you for your patience!


	21. Inside Our Own Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Contains gratuitous smut which is almost purely to make up for the fact it's been so long since the last update and I feel awful about that. That said, proceed with caution if smutty smut is not your jammy jam.

**Chapter 21**

*Adrienne's POV*

A lot of things have changed and they're gonna keep changing. People are gonna come and go, new enemies are gonna crop up every now and again… but this, the euphoria of being on the back of a bike, my arms tight around Daryl's waist, my face buried against his neck while we fly over the old, worn out roads… that's never gonna change. There's nothing like it. It feels like freedom and, if I close my eyes, I can pretend we're gonna stay like this for the rest of our lives. I can pretend we're not almost to Hilltop and I can pretend Siddiq's not on a horse and he's not thundering along behind us. We're safe for a little while. We're together, just me and Daryl, and we're going away.

But pretending only lasts so long. Sooner than I care for -and I don't care for it, no matter how necessary it is- we're roaring through the gates of Hilltop. Daryl cuts the engine, the two of us dismounting as Ezekiel approaches.

"Hey," I greet warmly as he gathers me into a hug. "Good to see you."

"Likewise," he murmurs, releasing me to shake Daryl's and Siddiq's hands. "No sign of Negan?"

"Searched all day and night, but no sign of him," Siddiq announces.

"Keep thinkin' about what he took from us, what we didn't take from him," Ezekiel mutters, coughing. "Alexandria deserved better."

"Yeah, well," I sigh. "Can't blame him for runnin'. Much as I'd like to."

"You've had your trouble, too," Siddiq points out, eyeing the crew surrounding the tree-meets-wall collision.

"Actually, we could use a hand in the infirmary," Ezekiel says. "Much of the Kingdom's still in recovery from the tree fall."

"We were plannin' on leavin' tomorrow, but, uh..." Siddiq trails off uncertainly, eyes flickering between Daryl and me before returning his gaze to the King. "But yeah. Of course. Whatever you need."

He disappears in the direction of the infirmary, leaving a bit of an awkward silence in his wake. Ezekiel isn't over Carol, still seems to resent Daryl a little bit for her leaving.

"You wanna ask about Carol?" Daryl demands when it becomes clear no one else is gonna break the silence.

"Nah," Ezekiel shakes his head, turning away and loping off in the opposite direction as the gate opens once more.

"He's still hurtin', Daryl," I murmur, eyeing the crew shuffling through the gates, Connie racing up to greet them, notebook in hand.

"Yeah, well," Daryl mutters, eyes on Oscar. "So is she."

Connie's scribbling something on her notepad, Oscar squinting at it and then up at her in confusion.

"She's not here?"

Connie shakes her head, exasperated, waving the notepad around in frustration.

"She was tracking something," Oscar informs her. "Said she'd meet us back here. Should've been back by now."

"Shit," I sigh, Oscar's eyes snapping to mine. "Which way?"

*Daryl's POV*

I don't like it but Adie split off with Magna to cover more ground, leaving me and Dog behind with Connie. I know Adie can handle herself, I just don't like not seeing her and I especially don't like not seeing her knowing if shit hits she ain't with somebody who'll cover her back. Magna ain't with us, not really. She's only at Hilltop 'cause that's where her people want to be. I don't like it. Connie's getting more and more worried with each second that goes by without finding Kelly and it makes me nervous, too. Like we're light poles and her anxiety is electricity running through a wire between us. She stops abruptly, brows furrowing in frustration.

_ This is my fault. _

"It's not your fault," I counter.

She shakes her head.

_ I should have gone with her. _

She starts moving again, eyes darting around, desperately searching for anything that might lead us to Kelly. I gotta distract her. I can't focus, all jittery like this. And she needs to know I get it. Kelly's her sister. We ain't gonna stop looking til we bring her home.

"Hey," I tap her shoulder. "Did I ever tell you about my brother, Merle?"

She's looking a little confused, but there ain't no sign for Merle and I ain't sure I remember the individual letters exactly right.

"Uh…" I huff, motioning for her pen and paper and scribbling his name. "Merle."

She nods and I keep going, hoping I'm remembering sign right and I'm not fucking up, telling her weird shit. Some of the motions are so close and I'm always a little worried I'm signing shit that don't make sense.

"Okay, this one time, he takes me fishing," I mimic the motion with an invisible fishing pole. "Right? Fishing. Right? On this big lake, right? Which is uh…" I reach for the notepad again. "Private… property…" I scrawl. "Right? In this boat, which is, uh…" fuck, I don't know the sign. I take the pen again. "Stolen."

She smiles at me and I ain't sure if she's amused at my pathetic attempts at communication or the fact me and my brother were degenerates, but either way it's nice and I feel the knot in my gut ease just a little.

"Stolen boat, right?" I continue. "And he's drinking, right? So he's fishing, he's drinking. He falls in the lake. Like… ka-pshh! Right? I have to take him, uh…" I take her arm and put it over my shoulders. "Like this… swim him all the way back. I  _ save _ his  _ life, _ right? You know what he says to me?"

I take her notepad one more time, writing down what I thought were gonna be my brother's last words on multiple occasions.

"Dummy... go get… the beer."

She reads the note and laughs, some of that tension leaving her face, and I feel good about it like I did something right, like maybe she feels better just a little bit.

"Idiot, right?" I put the cap back onto her pen and pass it back to her. "Yeah."

She takes my hand in hers and squeezes appreciatively.

"It's gonna be alright," I assure her.

Before I can say anything else, though, Dog's barking at something. I just hope it ain't the worst.

"Come on."

We tear off into the trees towards him. He really is a good dog. I should give him more treats or something. Adie sometimes feeds him table scraps. Maybe that's good enough. He's standing rooted to the ground next to some kind of string thing laying in the dirt, these ratty little pennant flags hanging from it.

"Good Dog," I praise. "Good Dog."

But he's whining in that disappointed way he has when I ain't picking up what he's trying to lay down. 

"What?"

I glance around the clearing, then I see it. A boar. Oscar said Kelly was tracking something, must've been this poor bastard. Ain't much meat left on him. The walkers have picked the bones almost clean, a cloud of flies feasting on what's left. I crouch down, dipping my fingers into a puddle of blood. It's cold, congealed. It's been hours since this happened. Before I can figure out the best way to tell Connie, twigs start snapping in the trees behind us. I spring upright, whipping around to find myself staring down my bolt tip at Adie.

*Adrienne's POV*

"No, please," Magna says flatly from behind my shoulder. "Don't shoot."

I'm ready to knock her ass out, leave her in a tree. She can come back when she's ready to be civil. I don't know what the hell crawled up her ass this morning, but she's one snide comment away from earning my foot up there, too. Daryl lowers his bow, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"Nothin'," I murmur, shooting Connie an apologetic glance before my gaze falls upon the carcass on the ground.

Damn. Must be what she was tracking. I don't see any other bodies, but there's prints all over the place. Walkers. She must not have heard 'em coming. Why the hell would Oscar and the others leave her out here on her own? Magna wondered the same thing earlier. It's a fair question. We go out as a group, we come back as a group. We don't just leave our people out here to fend for themselves. Oscar  _ knows  _ that. I fall into step beside Daryl, Connie and Magna pulling ahead with Dog. It's silent, at least as silent as it ever is in the woods, none of us speaking to each other, but Magna glares over her shoulder every so often in what I think is an attempt to remind me and Daryl she's got an eye on us. One day she's gonna end up alone 'cause she can't find it in herself to trust people. It might be sad if she wasn't so goddamn abrasive.

"You pinch her or sum'n?" Daryl murmurs quietly.

"No," I mutter. "She just knows I can't stand her."

"Why'd you go with her then?"

"Because," I side-eye him. "She was gonna go anyway and I didn't want Connie to have to be the babysitter. She's got enough to worry about."

He's quiet for a moment and I reach for him, catching his hand and lacing my fingers through his.

"I could've gone with her," he points out softly.

"I know," I nod. "But you have this... this  _ thing... _ " I trail off, meeting his questioning gaze. "You make people feel safe," I nod at Connie. "She needed that."

I never feel safer than when I'm with Daryl, and even though I'm selfish and even though I don't want to share him with anyone else... Sometimes other people need to feel that safe, too.

"I love you," I blurt, heat creeping up the back of my neck.

If my sudden admission takes him by surprise, he doesn't show it. He squeezes my hand and when I look at him he's looking right back, this crooked little smile on his lips, and I know, I  _ know  _ he loves me. Dog's barks punch through our bubble like pins to a balloon. He's several yards away, barking at a tree that looks no more suspicious than the other trees, except there's legs at the bottom of this one. Connie breaks into a sprint, Magna on her heels and Daryl and I on hers.

"Hey," Magna murmurs, she and Connie crouching beside Kelly.

She's banged up, probably suffering from heat exhaustion and dehydration, but she's alive. She's alive. Her eyelids flutter, she's trying so hard to keep her eyes open, and she whimpers in confusion.

_It's_ _me,_ Connie signs. _It's Connie. Are you OK?_

_ I couldn't hear before… _ Kelly signs.  _ But I'm fine now. _

The sisters cling to each other and it's like we can all breathe a little easier again. It's nice to know sometimes missing persons cases don't always have to end in tragedy, even now. Magna produces a canteen from her pack, passing it to Connie, who lifts it to her sister's lips. Kelly chokes and sputters, water spewing from her mouth and into the dirt.

"We've gotta get her back to Hilltop," Magna says, concern lacing her voice.

"We gotta get her outta this heat," I point out. "She's not makin' it back to Hilltop like this, we're miles away."

"We gotta find somewhere closer," Daryl agrees.

_ Tell them,  _ Kelly signs, nodding weakly, eyeing Magna.

"Tell 'em what?" Daryl demands, gaze flickering between the three women on the ground.

"I know somewhere closer," Magna sighs.

*Daryl's POV*

Turns out, somewhere closer is a rusty old pickup hidden in the woods a couple miles from Hilltop. Magna's been pilfering supplies, stashing them here. It ain't just medicine, neither. It's crates of food,  _ water.  _ There's at least a month's worth here.

"Are you serious?" Adie hisses, whirling on Magna. "How long have you been stockpilin' this?"

Magna don't say nothin', just holds onto Kelly while Connie rifles through the stolen supplies, plucking a med kit from the truck bed.

"Did you know about this?" I demand.

She shakes her head, shooting a withering glare at her friend and taking a seat beside Kelly. Magna taps Connie's shoulder, signing something I can't translate.

"Hey," I hiss. "What's she sayin'?"

"She said she doesn't trust us," Adie seethes, eyes still shooting daggers through Magna's skull. "Kinda funny, though, 'cause  _ you're _ the one stealin' shit."

"Oh, so you care about Hilltop now?" Magna spits. "Didn't seem like it when you abandoned them and Miko had to take your place."

"There's a  _ council, _ " Adie snaps. "You all are supposed to be usin' it!"

Magna just rolls her eyes. It's probably a testament to how much Adie's patience has improved over the years that she don't lunge for the other woman, but I don't think I'd stop her from beating her ass right now.

"What's your problem?" I demand, sinking down on the end of the truck bed. "Huh? Hilltop takes you in. They got sick children and mouths to feed, and you  _ steal _ from 'em? All you're good for is talkin' shit."

Connie's scribbling out a note, probably some bullshit excuse for her friend. She's pissed too, though, I can see it. She don't agree with this.

WE'LL TELL

THEM WE

FOUND IT.

"Oh, yeah," Adie scoffs, raking a hand through her hair. "That's gonna make it  _ all _ better."

Dog whines, pawing at her boot and bumping her knee with his nose until she reaches down to scratch him behind the ears. He don't like it when she's upset. She's his favorite. Probably 'cause she gives him them table scraps. We don't start back for Hilltop until the sun's nearly set. Kelly's patched up, managed to get some meds in her, some water. Maybe she wouldn't have made it if Magna hadn't been taking Hilltop's shit, but that offers little comfort. I'm glad Kelly's okay, but they can't be taking shit like that, can't be keeping one foot out the door. You're either in or you're out. You're part of us or you ain't. But Connie didn't know. I believe that. I'll keep their secret. Hilltop's getting their shit back. No harm, no foul. I just ain't sure Adie'll keep her mouth shut.

*Adrienne's POV*

It's just about dark by the time we reach Hilltop and I'm still pissed when we roll through the gates. Kelly's still young enough to be impressionable, I really can't blame her. Magna, however… I  _ like _ Connie. She's one of us. I like Kelly and Yumiko and I've even come to like Luke despite his various eccentricities. If Magna doesn't want to be here, if she doesn't trust us, she needs to leave before she ruins this for her people. Fend for herself, if she's so damn smart.  _ Abandoned…  _ I didn't abandon them. I didn't. I needed to be where Daryl is and Daryl has to be at Alexandria with Lydia. I left Hilltop in good hands, at least I thought. Ezekiel, Alden, Earl, Jerry, Kal… I thought they had this handled. Maybe they think I abandoned them, too. Maybe they're right.

Siddiq announces he needs to leave almost the moment we arrive -agreeing to have a look at Kelly before we go, of course- and I can't say I'm not relieved. I don't want to throw anybody under the bus, but not telling Ezekiel what I know feels _wrong._ I busy myself playing with Jerry and Nabila's little ones, trying to ignore the knots in my gut. I just wanna get back on the bike and go home. We have to get back to RJ anyway, and Lydia. Daryl and I are on babysitting duty a little while longer while Michonne's helping out Oceanside. Rachel swears up and down she saw a Whisperer near their walls and apparently some of their supplies are missing. The Whisperers are attacking us, there's no doubt in my mind about that. They're systematically targeting one community after another, trying to tire us out.

All the more reason we shouldn't have to worry about threats from inside our own walls.

*Daryl's POV*

_ You're leaving? _

Connie's just appeared at the bike. Guess Kelly must be doing okay enough if Connie felt like she could leave her for a minute. Adie's still saying her goodbyes, Jerry and Kal seemingly quite reluctant to see her go so soon. I don't blame 'em.

"Uh, yeah," I nod, pointing to where Siddiq's saddling his horse. "Uh, Siddiq has to go back. Is, um… Kelly okay?"

Connie nods, smiling wearily. Then her face falls, guilt clouding her features.

_ I'm sorry about Magna and Kelly… asking you to lie for them. _

I just nod and I guess she thinks I ain't understanding 'cause she reaches for her notepad.

"No, no, no," I blurt, touching her shoulder. "I get it. Um…" I wrack my brain trying to remember the right motion. "Family. Right?"

She grins, nodding. Before she can say anything else, though, Adie's rounding the corner of the stable, Siddiq and his horse in tow.

"You ready?" She questions, slinging her pack over one shoulder, waggling her fingers at Connie in farewell.

"Alright," I murmur, kick-starting the bike and wheeling it towards the gate, Adie and Dog on my heels.

Connie stops us, just for a second, and points from herself to me and Adie and back again.

_ Family. _

Adie, I know, is still upset about the whole thing with Magna, but she just nods, smiling, and gives Connie's hand a squeeze anyway. Family. It don't always feel that way, everybody separated like we are, and after we lost Rick… but we're still a family, all of us. We are.

*Adrienne's POV*

We don't make it home til late and I know it's selfish of me, but I'm a little relieved we can just go to bed. RJ's having a sleepover with Gracie and Aaron, Lydia still hasn't left the cell, and Daryl and I don't have any immediate responsibilities this time. Seems like there's always something else we have to take care of, like we never really get a break, so this is nice.

"You alright?" Daryl murmurs against my ear, his rough palm sliding over my belly.

His hair is still wet and sticking to my neck. I don't mind it, even though it's a little itchy. He seems a little more motivated to shower when I'm involved. Sometimes I worry I'm turning soft now that I've become accustomed to showering regularly and eating three meals a day. It's easy to forget how quickly we can lose things now. We haven't always had it this good. I need to remember that. But not right now, not with Daryl's hands on my skin, his touch making my spine curl.

"Yeah," I sigh, placing my hand over his, pressing his palm flat against me. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He's quiet and I can tell he's not buying it, but I am. I'm okay here with him. His thumb is sweeping back and forth across my skin. I'm sure he's doing it to comfort or soothe or whatever, but it's driving me crazy.

"Daryl?"

"Hm?"

I'm suddenly dumbstruck and a little shy, which is stupid. It's  _ Daryl.  _ It's Daryl and I'm a grown ass woman, his  _ wife, _ for Christ's sake, I should be able to just spit it out. I should be able to just tell him what I want, what he does to me. But I'm not that articulate, so instead I tug on his hand, trying to guide him downward, hoping he'll take the hint.

"There sum'n you need?"

I can hear the smirk in his voice. Back in the day he was terrified to touch me, like he was scared or ashamed even to want it. Not anymore. I sigh in frustration and he takes his hand away, propping himself up on his elbows and looking down at me, his face almost entirely in shadow, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

"Not particularly," I say breezily, feigning nonchalance, snaking my own hand down my belly.

"Uh-huh," he scoffs, snatching my hand before my fingers reach their intended destination.

I groan as he traps my hand just below my belly button, snapping my legs together and grinding my thighs against each other, desperately seeking some goddamn friction.

"Use your words, Mrs. Dixon."

I reach across my body with my free hand, drawing a gasp from his lips when my fingers wrap around his cock, already pulsing hard, a little bead of wetness leaking from the tip. He's not as unaffected as he likes to pretend. I stroke my thumb over the head and he shudders.

"What was that?" I snicker, pumping him softly, slowly.

"Damn it," he rasps, involuntarily bucking into my palm.

I roll over, grinning down at him. Not so in control now, is he? He's staring at me through slitted eyes, still so fucking blue in the dark, and I love the way he looks at me like I'm still something worth looking at. I know I don't look like I did when I was younger, when I met him. I'm a little rougher, a little more scarred and dirty. But he still looks at me like I'm holy.

"There somethin' you need?" I tease, my breath whispering across his cock, which twitches against my hand.

I run the tip of my tongue over his slit, letting the salty, musky flavor of him roll over my taste buds, trailing my thumb along that vein on the underside of his cock. He growls, sucking a sharp breath through his teeth.

"Use your  _ words,  _ Mr. Dixon."

*Daryl's POV*

She's gonna kill me. I swear to god she's gonna kill me and I'm gonna let her. She's grinning again, my dick resting against her lips, and I'm done even trying to tease her. I'll get her back later when I can think about anything but how pretty her lips look slicked with my come or how bad I wanna shove my dick down her throat for being such a fuckin' brat. I swallow hard, grabbing the back of her head. She opens her mouth cooperatively to take my dick, eyes alight like this is exactly what she wants, like this ain't degrading as hell, like this ain't the kind of shit you do to women who don't mean nothin' to you. But this ain't just some girl. This is  _ Adie  _ and she means everything to me. Maybe that makes it worse, that I like seeing her mouth wrapped around my dick, I like pushing her head down and…

"Get up," I grunt, pawing at her like a goddamn teenager. "Come here, come…"

Her lips are shiny and red and a little bit swollen and curving into a smile and I can't fucking help the noise I make when she sinks down onto me, burying my dick inside her, and she's fucking  _ flooding  _ wet, her pussy clenching tight around me. A shiver ripples through her and she flattens her palms over my chest, rolling her hips forward, setting a pace that's too goddamn slow. I buck against her, my hip bones smacking into hers, and she smirks like she's got it all figured out. She's doing this on goddamn purpose. I grab her hips, lifting her up and slamming her back down, and the sound that drags itself from her throat nearly makes me come undone right here.

I cup her ass with my hands, holding her tight against me while I roll us over, losing my breath for a moment at the sight of that red hair splayed out over the pillow, them lust blown eyes… she brings me back to my head when she rocks against me, biting her lip and staring up at me expectantly.

"You gonna…" she pants breathlessly. "You gonna fuck me or not?"

"Oh, damn it," I hiss, pulling out and driving back into her, over and over, hard enough her tits bounce.

She wraps her legs around my waist, her heels digging into my ass cheeks, her nails dragging down my back, and I can hear my name falling from her lips, keeping time with my dick, through the blood rushing in my ears and her pussy is fluttering around me while I fuck her into the mattress.

"Daryl," she cries, clawing helplessly at one of my hands. "Daryl, please, I need… I, oh, fuck, Daryl, I, Daryl, I need…"

"What do you need sweetheart?" I demand, forcing my hand between our bodies and pressing the pad of my thumb over her clit.

"Daryl!"

Her eyes fly wide open and she's writhing beneath me, grabbing hold of my wrist with both her hands and rubbing her clit up against my thumb, practically sobbing my name now while she comes and comes and comes, I ain't never seen her come this long, and Jesus  _ fuck, _ I hope it lasts forever, 'cause her pussy is  _ drowning _ me, our bodies slapping obscenely together while I empty myself inside her. I collapse over her and she rides it out, gently rocking against me while I press kisses to her overheated skin, whispering shit I can only say when I'm spent like this, alone with her, shit about forever and loving her and how she's all I ever wanted and I love, I love, I love her.

"Wow," she says eventually, her breath deep and even, her walls still fluttering around my soft dick.

She grins lazily, her eyes sliding to mine, and then we're both laughing deliriously and I'm thinking maybe one day we're gonna go see New Mexico.


	22. Boundaries

**Chapter 22**

*Adrienne's POV*

"I've been thinkin'," I announce, stepping out onto the patio where Daryl sits, rocking and puffing on a cigarette, Dog seated dutifully at his side.

"Good mornin' to you, too, sunshine," he grunts as I drop into his lap.

"Mornin'," I grin, giving him a peck on the cheek. "I've been thinkin'."

"About what?"

"This," I snatch the cigarette from his lips and give it a few taps, loose bits crumbling from the ashen end, before handing it back to him. "I think you should quit."

He takes another drag, blowing smoke pointedly away from me.

"I just think it's time we start actin' like we're gonna be around a while," I shrug. "I mean… don't we have enough shit tryin' to kill us already?"

"Anyone ever tell you what a nag you are?" He sighs, tossing his cigarette and grounding it out with his heel.

"My heart," I pout sarcastically, clutching at my chest. "Oh, my  _ soul. _ How will I ever come to terms with-"

"Stop," he mutters, pressing his lips to the top of my head.

I settle myself back against him, a companionable silence falling over us, broken only by the creak of the rocker and Dog's contented breaths.

"Hell's she doin'?" Daryl blurts suddenly.

"Hm?" I squint down into the street.

Carol. I didn't hear her get up, but she's all dressed to leave, pack slung over her shoulder, picking up bread from the stand in the middle of the square. A few Alexandrians who run the kitchen make fresh bread every morning. It's filling and low maintenance, which makes it a perfect grab and go meal. Where the hell is she running off to?

"At the risk of soundin' like a naggy old housewife again…" I trail off, getting to my feet and offering him a hand.

"Yeah," he grunts, allowing me to pull him up. "We should follow her."

" _ You  _ should," I correct. "Someone's gotta be here for RJ. Make sure Lydia eats."

"Aaron's here," he points out. "You're gon' have to talk to her eventually."

"It's not like that, Daryl, I'm not  _ avoidin'  _ her."

"Then what?"

His eyes are boring into mine like he can see right down to my soul.

"Okay, fine," I admit. "Maybe I'm avoidin' her a little, but… I don't wanna fight with her. She's still pissed at me. It'll be better if just you go, and anyway, I do think one of us needs to be here for Lydia and RJ."

God, it sounds like excuses even to me. It doesn't feel right, not being able to talk to Carol. I've always been able to talk to her, even when I couldn't talk to Daryl. I don't like feeling at odds like this, but she's still angry I spoiled her shot. She's still angry about a lot of things and I can't get through to her.

"You better hurry," I urge, arching an eyebrow.

"Okay," he concedes. "Okay. Tell Lydia hi for me and make sure you eat, too."

He presses his lips to mine and for the millionth time I wonder how the hell he came to be such a good kisser, going dizzy and slightly out of my head.

"Be safe," I murmur between kisses. "I love you."

"I will," he assures me. "Love you, too."

Then he's gone. I sink dejectedly into the rocker. I wish I didn't feel like he's gonna disappear every time he leaves my sight. Dog whines quietly, nudging my knees with his nose. I scratch him behind the ears, stroking my thumbs over the top of his head.

"I know, Dog," I sigh. "I miss him, too."

*Daryl's POV*

"Hey."

Carol stops in her tracks halfway down the chain link corridor leading to one of Alexandria's back exits, slowly turning to face me.

"Hey," she echoes.

"Feelin' better?"

"Yeah," she nods, glancing down at her wrist, now sans bandage. "Thanks."

"Where you goin'?"

"Um, gonna do another sweep for Negan."

Damn it. This shit is why Adie ain't coming. Carol's lying. I'll let her play it out, though.

"Cool. You want company?"

I sling my crossbow over my shoulder before she can tell me no 'cause it ain't really a choice and follow her out the gate. It's quiet but it ain't comfortable like it used to be. She's hiding shit and she knows I know it. She leads me out further and further from the grid we've already canvassed, eventually coming to a stop in a small clearing overlooking a field below. She can't really think I'm this goddamn stupid. The west side of that field marks one of Alpha's borders. We ain't out here for Negan. Still, I'll play.

"Think Negan crossed the border?" I question nonchalantly.

"He'd know we couldn't follow him over there," she points out.

"I can't see him puttin' on a mask."

"Or staying quiet for long," she agrees. "Still, stranger things have happened."

She places her bow on a large log, dropping her bag down beside it and rifling through the contents. She's hunched over the bag in a way that makes me think she don't want me looking inside and I wonder if that's where she stashed the gun.

"We takin' a break?"

"Nope," she says, producing a pair of binoculars. "This is our spot today. Gonna stay here…" she marches towards the edge of the clearing, raising the binoculars to her eyes. "See what we see."

I've had enough of this. I'm calling it.

"He ain't gonna wander around waitin' to get spotted," I point out. "He ain't that dumb. Neither are you."

"Gee," she simpers, lowering the binoculars for a second to glare at me. "Thanks."

She raises them things right back up and I sigh heavily, moving to stand beside her.

"You wanna tell me what we're doin' out here?"

"Lookin' for Negan," she murmurs, the words coming out like she don't even care if I believe 'em or not.

"Right," I mutter. "You gonna tell me what we're really lookin' for?"

She drops the binoculars again, brows furrowing in frustration or confusion or some other -ion word I don't know. She knows she can't bullshit me and I guess she's finally done trying.

"Alpha's horde," she sighs. "We're gonna find it and we're gonna destroy it."

*Adrienne's POV*

"Shit," I hiss, stumbling over my four legged shadow on my way down the steps to Lydia's cell. "Sorry, Dog."

I round the corner, breakfast tray in hand, and peer at Lydia through the bars. She's curled in on herself and, even though she's facing the wall, I can tell she's faking sleep.

"Rise 'n shine," I chirp, balancing the tray on one hand and unlocking the cell with the other.

The keys mysteriously showed up a few yards from our walls shortly after Negan's glorious escape. Daryl didn't find any tracks near them. My theory is whoever let him out just chucked 'em over the wall for us to find. No one's seen Brandon since Negan disappeared, so the reigning hypothesis is Brandon let him out and they split. I can't say I give a fuck. If they get themselves killed, so be it. Sanctuary's a shithole and there aren't enough people left alive to build a new army anyway. The Saviors are dead and if Negan thinks otherwise he's deluding himself.

"Come on, I know you've gotta be hungry," I coax, sinking onto the end of her cot.

She sits up reluctantly 'cause she knows I'm right, settling cross-legged with her tray on her lap. I raise an expectant eyebrow and she sighs disparagingly, snatching up a piece of toast, biting into it and chewing pointedly.

"How you feelin'?" I question. "Still hurtin' a lot?"

She lifts a hand, tilting it side to side in a meh sort of way.

"Fair to middlin', huh?"

She just nods. She's not particularly chatty, but at least she's eating.

"I'll stop by Siddiq's, get you somethin' for the pain."

"Where's Daryl?" She asks softly, tossing a small piece of bread crust to Dog.

"He went out with Carol," I sigh, wrapping my arms around myself. "Keep her company doin' whatever it is she's doin'."

"She hates me."

It's not a question and she looks so damn sad saying it out loud.

"She likes you just fine," I assure her. "She just… she hates your mom."

"Yeah, well some people around here don't seem to think there's a difference."

"I think  _ you _ can't tell the difference," I point out and she glances up in surprise. "She's your mother."

"Don't you hate your dad?" She demands, eyes narrowing. "Or was that story about the tank and the prison just bullshit?"

"I killed him," I blurt, and if she was surprised before now she's downright shocked.

"But you, you said you all fought him. That he had a tank and your people…" she trails off, trying to remember the ending of the story.

"I didn't tell you that part," I sigh, raking a hand through my hair.

"Why?"

"I don't know," I shrug. "I guess I didn't think… I didn't know how you'd take it. I didn't want you to think I was… I wanted you to feel safe around me," I point to the tomato slices on her tray. "Eat that."

"Do you regret it?" She questions, plucking a slice from her plate and dropping it into her mouth obediently.

"No," I tell her honestly. "I never… I never did. I wish I'd done it sooner, before he… I sometimes wonder if we'd still be there at the prison, you know? If I'd just killed him sooner, maybe my, maybe my friends would still be alive," I sniff, palming away the tears escaping my eyes. "Maybe we'd all still be there. But… but you can't think like that, always thinkin' about maybes. What my dad did wasn't my fault and what your mom's doin' isn't yours. You don't get to pick your parents, but… but you do get to pick who you're gonna be."

I get to my feet, taking the empty tray from her lap.

"You get enough to eat?"

"Yeah."

"I'll bring you some applesauce," I nod, crouching down to scratch Dog behind the ears. "I'm gonna leave him with you, if that's okay. I'll be back with somethin' for pain."

I close the cell, Dog leaping up and settling contentedly beside Lydia on the cot, and make my way back outside. I drop the tray on our front steps on my way up the street towards the infirmary. I figure I can wash it later.

"Come on, admit it," Dante's voice floats down the hallway as I step into the infirmary. "There's a tiny part of you that's  _ thrilled _ to be sick."

I duck into the office, surprised to see several seated Alexandrians waiting patiently for Dante to finish taking Cheryl's vitals, Siddiq nowhere to be found among them. There's a stomach bug going around, but last I heard there were only a couple cases.

"Just so you can spend more time with me," Dante continues, air hissing from the pressure cuff around Cheryl's arm, glancing up as I enter the room. "Be with you in a moment, my dear."

"Don't call me that," I simper, leaning against the door frame.

"You think I'm pukin' because I got a little crush?" Cheryl demands sarcastically.

"Textbook case of butterflies in the stomach," Dante confirms.

"I want a second opinion," Cheryl snarks.

"Oh…" Dante coos, removing the pressure cuff with a flourish. "It's simple science, darlin'. Bodies manifest emotion in all sorts of different ways."

I'm not sure if it's Dante's oily flirt voice or the acrid stench of bile lingering in the air, but my body's about to manifest some vomit right here on the floor.

"The heart wants what it wants," Dante smirks, placing a hand on Cheryl's shoulder and holding his stethoscope to her chest. "Right? Inhale for me. Good. And exhale. Alright."

Evidently he doesn't hear anything that concerns him. It doesn't surprise me. Cheryl's elderly, but she's strong and sharp as a tack. Growing old used to be in my top three biggest fears, right between being alone and getting swallowed alive by a huge fish. The story of Jonah and the whale scared the shit out of me when I was little and even though I grew up to believe the good word is just holy bullshit, I never quite got over that one. But now, looking at Cheryl gives me hope. I hope I live long enough my hair goes coarse and grey. I hope I get to lose count of the lines on my face and I hope Daryl's right beside me, bent and balding and laughing so hard he coughs and I have to remind him about all those years he spent smoking.

"Seriously, though," Dante's voice breaks me from my wistfulness. "Don't you think we'd make a bitchin' couple?"

"Son, I would break you like a twig."

Dante just winks, unaffected, while I cackle. Sharp as a tack, I'm telling you.

"How's he doin', Cheryl?" Siddiq questions, emerging from the other side of the room.

Rosita must be sick, if the sling over Siddiq's chest housing baby Coco is any indication. She's getting so big, all chubby cheeks and massive chocolate eyes.

"Jury's still out," Cheryl chuckles.

" _ Ouch, _ " Dante says, clutching his heart in feigned hurt. "I thought we were havin' a moment here, Cher."

"Poor baby," I laugh, crossing the room to stand beside Siddiq. "It'll be okay, little buddy. Gettin' over your first heartbreak is always hard, but you'll pull through."

"Hey." Siddiq greets warmly. "You okay?"

"Fine." I nod, waving off his concern. "Just here to pick up somethin' for Lydia, she's still in pain. I would've been in and out, but I had to wait for Dr. Desperation here to finish hittin' on your patients."

"Had to wait?" Dante counters. "Or  _ wanted  _ to wait? You know, I'm more than happy to pencil you in for a private appointment."

"Wow," I murmur. "This is almost too sad."

"Take what Lydia needs," Siddiq grins, shaking his head and turning his attention to Dante. "How about Cheryl, is she okay? Everything all right?"

"Yeah," Dante assures him while I start rifling through the medicine cabinet in search of anything stronger than an advil tablet. "Couple more cases of that stomach bug."

"So that makes it seven," Siddiq sighs wearily.

"Yeah."

"You know, maybe I should just put Coco down for a minute-"

"Don't worry about it, man," Dante interrupts. "I got it."

"Sure?"

"Yeah. How's Rosita?"

"Same as everybody else, it seems."

"The most we can do is keep 'em hydrated and wait it out."

"If this is a viral thing," I start, finally snatching the bottle of pills I'm looking for, emptying two tablets into a baggie before placing it back on the shelf and turning to the doctors. "Then why isn't it spreadin' faster?"

"Who knows?" Dante shrugs, smiling down at Coco when she babbles in response. "Hey," he says, turning his gaze on Siddiq. "Lap up the daddy daughter shit while you can," he leans forward, phasing into this weird little baby talk thing. "Because they grow so damn fast."

The baby talk turns into nonsensical noises, Dante stopping just short of nuzzling Coco's head.

"Dude," I blurt, horrified to see him so close to her for reasons I can't quite put my finger on. "You're creepin' her out."

Siddiq shrugs Dante off, nudging him away awkwardly.

"Have  _ some  _ boundaries."

"Okay," Dante dips his head, raising his hands in surrender. "My bad. You two should go out, have some fun."

"Alright," Siddiq agrees readily, probably to get the hell away from Dante more than anything else, starting for the door. "Thanks."

"And if you need me to peek at Rosita later," Dante adds, almost as an afterthought. "Just say the word. Happy to, you know…" he raises his eyebrows lasciviously. "...make sure she's on the mend."

Siddiq just stares at him.

"That's one of those boundaries again."

"Yep," Siddiq nods, turning and making his escape.

"Yeah," Dante taps his pen on his clipboard. "Noted."

"Okay," I sigh. "So… I'm gonna go, then."

I make it about three feet before doubling over and hurling on the floor.

*Daryl's POV*

"Alpha's been sending waves of walkers to screw with us, right?" Carol says, unfolding a map covered in all kinds of scribbles that don't make much sense unless you squint real hard. "Well, I've been tracking walker movement along the border. Small groups. Some of them might have Whisperers in them," she points to the spot on the map marking the field. "But they all connect right back to this general area, so I figure we stake out this spot."

"See where the Whisperers go," I nod, impressed. "Might lead us back to the horde, that's smart."

"I thought so," she murmurs.

"She's gonna need a big place, though," I point out, glancing at the map. "Like the canyon they used to be in. Only spots I know are on Whisperer territory, though. Not gon' be able to sneak in there without startin' up some kinda shit."

"We only need to figure out where they are, and then we'll tell the council," she promises. "I swear."

"Why weren't you straight with me before?"

"After what happened at the border with Alpha, I didn't want you to worry," she says quietly and I think it's the first time she's told the truth all goddamn day. "Sorry."

"I get it," I nod.

"Just wanna keep us safe," she sighs. "So, you gonna stick around?"

"Well, if you spot somethin', you're gonna need me to track it, right?"

"I dunno," she shakes her head, just the shadow of her old shit-eating grin fluttering at the corners of her mouth. "Picked up a few things over the years."

"Pfft," I scoff, chuckling. "Yeah, we'll see."

*Adrienne's POV*

"I'm tellin' you," I insist, squirming away from Dante and his goddamn stethoscope. "I feel fine."

"You just blew chunks all over the floor," he points out, pressing the stethoscope to my chest. "Inhale."

"Must've been the smell," I shrug. "Or the pleasure of your company."

" _ Inhale, _ " he repeats stubbornly.

I scowl, pointedly sucking in a much larger breath than is actually necessary.

"Good, and out."

I release the air in my lungs, hoping my breath smells as rancid as it tastes and hoping it goes right up his nose. 

"Alright, you sound fine," he eyes me up and down. "You  _ look  _ fine."

"Look," I hiss. "You can flirt all you want to. You can use all your shitty regurgitated lines over and over again and I am  _ never _ gonna bite. I have a husband."

"I have a really big tongue depressor," he counters, winking.

"Jesus," I sputter, leaping to my feet. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"Wait," he blurts, grabbing my elbow and wheeling me around to face him. "I'm sorry, okay? I don't mean anything by it. I can't just turn off the charm," I scoff and he waves a hand apologetically. "But I  _ can _ dial it back, okay Mrs. D?"

"Fine," I sigh and he releases me from his grip. "But seriously, I feel  _ fine.  _ I'm not sick at all."

"I mean, I've heard what you and the mister get up to at night," he smirks. "Any possibility you could be pregnant?"

Oh.

Oh,  _ no. _

"I have to get back to Lydia."

*Daryl's POV*

"Ugh."

I missed my shot. Again. Carol and I have decided to pass the time chucking acorns at an empty tin can set up on a log a few yards ahead of us. And they say downtime in the apocalypse is boring.

"So close," Carol says, flinging her own acorn and missing.

"Ew," I line up another shot, sure I've got it this time. "Ugh."

"Mr. Crossbow," Carol teases. "I thought aiming was your thing. Didn't sound like you were having trouble hitting your target last night."

"Shut up," I scoff, flushing.

I've given up on trying to keep Adie quiet and anyway, I  _ like _ her loud. I like knowing she's liking what I'm doing. Before I can let my mind wander too far off course, Carol misses another shot.

"It's definitely not your thing," I snark, flinging another acorn.

This one actually hits the can before skittering off into no man's land and disappearing forever.

"Mm-mm," Carol shakes her head. "Sorry, it doesn't count."

"'Course that counts," I protest.

"No, you gotta knock the can over," she insists. "You can't just  _ kiss _ it."

"Oh, my god," I huff, throwing my hands up. "You're such a sore loser."

"I'd have to lose in order to be a sore loser, so since that didn't count, I'm gonna take my turn," she announces haughtily, plucking another acorn from the dirt. "Oh…" she says softly, holding it up in front of her. "It's a double-capper."

It's just two acorns fused together at the tops, ain't nothin' special about it except she thinks it's special.

"They're good luck," she explains, passing it my way. "Maybe it'll help your aim."

"Very funny," I scoff, tucking it away in my vest pocket. "But I'll keep it."

I take aim with another ordinary one-capped acorn.

"You should watch your own throws, though," I advise. "Boom."

The sound effect did nothing for me and neither did the lucky double-capper.

"How was Hilltop?" Carol questions, tossing again and missing again.

Adie would be horrified at how shitty we both are at this game. She once organized a kickball tournament in the prison yard. I didn't play, but I watched. Couldn't take my eyes off of her. She was having the time of her goddamn life, whooping and hollering and trash talking Glenn and hurtling her way around the field like she had wings attached to her heels or some shit. That was good times…

Oh, Hilltop.

"It was fine," I mutter. "King sends his best."

She's quiet for a minute. I didn't expect she'd have much to say about that. She ain't the Queen, not no more. That got burned away when Henry died, just like who she was at the farm after Sophia and who she was at the prison after it fell. But we still ain't ashes. I still believe that. She's still Carol.

"Are you two trying again?" She blurts. "You and Adie? I'd ask her, but..."

But they ain't talking. It takes a moment for what she's asking to actually sink in and when it does I don't know what the hell to say. We ain't really  _ not  _ trying. I don't think I've seen a box of condoms since those first early days at Alexandria. Adie and I ain't talked about it. Ain't like we got a lotta time for making babies anyway, and when we got time, her getting pregnant is the last thing on my mind. Human nature, I guess. Or maybe just irresponsibility.

It  _ is  _ irresponsible. I know that. I know I should be thinking about how we're on the brink of an all out war and how we could all be dead at any minute and how long nine months is and how much can happen in that kind of time, but I'm not. I'm thinking about how I felt when I heard our baby's heartbeat for the first and last time, how looking at that grainy black and white picture made my insides swell up, how the idea of Adie and me being parents didn't scare the shit outta me, not in the end. We ain't trying. But maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing.

"It's bad timin'," I shrug.

"That's not an answer," Carol points out, but she don't press.

"You should talk to her."

She don't agree or disagree so I guess she's done talking about Adie at all now. It's weird, them not talking. We're the only ones left from the group we had at the very beginning now and maybe it ain't fair to new people we bring in, but… it's a different kind of bond. God forbid one of 'em die before they work their shit out. I fling another acorn at the can and this time I knock it over, sending it clattering to the ground.

"Oh, see?" Carol laughs. "Your aim's better already."

I just chuckle softly, still a little lost in my head about Adie and what our future might look like. Maybe I  _ should _ quit smoking.

"I'm hungry," I mutter, reaching for the bag sitting in the dirt between us. "You got food?"

"Yeah, I'll get it," she insists, snatching the bag before I can really even close my fingers around the fabric.

She's being real weird about that bag. I still think she's hiding something from me. I think she brought her gun. I think maybe this whole horde thing ain't the whole truth, at least not the part about wanting to keep us safe. I think maybe she's just waiting for her shot. After rifling around her pack for a second or two, she produces a chunk of bread.

"Thanks," I grunt.

"Mhmm."

We chew in silence and I wonder if she knows I think she's still bullshitting me or if she thinks I'm still buying what she's selling. Before I can ask though, I spot movement at the edge of the field.

"Hey," I point at the walkers emerging from the trees. "See that?"

She abandons the bread in favor of her binoculars, quickly lifting them to her eyes, brows furrowing. She passes the binoculars to me and I squint through the lenses, watching the dozen and a half walkers and counting start to circle in that weird way they do when Alpha's people are leading them.

"It's a Whisperer," I murmur.

We watch for a while as more and more walkers fill the field, shuffling from the woods in twos and threes, herding up around the Whisperers.

"It's getting bigger," Carol observes.

"Yeah, looks like they're gatherin' up all the strays."

"Well, once the sun goes down, it's gonna be tough to see where they go unless we can get closer."

"What makes you think they're goin' anywhere?" I demand, snatching the binoculars and peering into them.

"If you and me were Whisperers, that's when we'd move 'em," she points out. "You know I'm right."

I drop the binoculars to glare at her. I know she's right. I know other shit, too.

"You wanna cross the border, don't you?"

"I wanna find the horde," she says, shrugging defensively. "If that's what it takes…"

"Sure this isn't you jus' tryin' to take another shot at Alpha?"

"The horde is our shot," she insists. "You changin' your mind?"

"Nope," I shake my head. "I didn't say that."

"Then what's the problem?"

The problem? The problem is she won't stop until Alpha's dead and it don't matter to her who else gets hurt or dies in the process. The problem is we can't turn our backs on her for five fucking minutes without worrying what she's up to. The problem is she's been lying so much I can't trust her no more. Thing is, though, she's right. If we find the horde, figure out a way to take it out…

"Alright," I sigh. "We do this, we gotta be smart about it. None of this runnin' off in the middle of the night, no backup, just us shit, alright?"

She blinks at me, surprised, like I just suggested the Earth ain't round.

"Since when are we not enough?"

I wait, considering. We ain't ever been enough, not really. We've always needed people to survive, I think we both just forget sometimes. I'm trying to think what Adie would do if she'd come with us. If she'd be down for this. Probably not. Adie ten years ago maybe, but Adie now… she'd never agree. But she ain't here and I know Carol's gonna do this with or without my help.

"You know, we mess this up, everyone else is gonna pay for it, right?"

"We've already paid," she says quietly. "We  _ keep _ paying, no matter what side of the line we're on."

What she's saying ain't wrong. This is like the Saviors all over again, but at least with them we knew where they were and what they wanted. We knew how to fight them. Alpha don't seem to want nothin' except fear. Control.

"I gotta pee," Carol announces, leaping to her feet and stalking off into the trees.

I glance at her bag, just sitting there in the dirt. I know it's invasive, but if she ain't gonna tell me shit… I'm gonna get the truth. I ain't going with her until I know where that gun is. I crouch down beside the bag, flipping it open and rifling through the contents. Water, flashlight, hat and scarf… no gun. Nothin'. Still, she could have it on her. I sink back down on our log about three seconds before she returns, her sharp gaze drawn immediately to the bag. I left it exactly like she left it, but she knows.

"Did you find what you were lookin' for?" She questions breezily, settling beside me.

I regard her warily, chewing my lip, wondering if it's even worth the breath it'll take to ask. She'll probably just bullshit me again.

"You bring the gun?"

"No. Used up all the ammunition, remember?"

"There was still some ammo left in the storage room," I point out.

"I didn't bring the gun, Daryl," she insists. "Wanna frisk me? Go ahead."

"Okay," I raise my hands in surrender. "Okay."

"Either we're enough…" she sighs. "Or we're not."

She don't feel like she's got anything left to lose. If we fuck up, she don't care. If we die… it's worth it to her. It should probably piss me off, but it just makes me think of Rick when I wanted to bust Sanctuary open and he wanted to wait it out and I wouldn't or couldn't listen. I think about how Adie went along with me not 'cause she agreed or thought it was the right thing to do, but 'cause she knew I needed to do it and couldn't stand the thought I might die doing it. She wanted to be there to cover me. Maybe Carol just needs to see it through. Maybe we do this and she can finally find some peace.

"Alright," I nod. "Let's do it. A plan this stupid, might as well be us."


	23. You Have The Animal In You

**Chapter 23**

*Adrienne's POV*

"They'll be back," Aaron assures me. "It's  _ Daryl _ and  _ Carol. _ "

"Yeah."

It's Daryl and Carol. It's Daryl and Carol, quick and smart and  _ lethal _ as they may be... they aren't invincible. It's well into the afternoon, nearing dinnertime, actually, and they still aren't back. Anything can happen out there. Guilt claws at my guts while I watch RJ and Gracie ride laps up one side of the street and down the other, he on his tricycle and she on her bike, over and over again. I should have gone with Daryl. What if they're hurt or dead? What if I  _ am _ pregnant and my baby has to grow up without a daddy because I wouldn't just suck it up and go with Carol? What, because it's  _ awkward?  _ I guess I forget sometimes, in this world of tricycles and playdates, we're still not safe. Alpha's out there. I should've gone with him.

"Adie," Aaron says hesitantly.

"Hm?"

"I know it hurt you when he left," he sighs. "And I know… I know it feels like he's not coming back every time he goes out there, but… he's coming back."

"That's not…" I sigh, rubbing my temples wearily. "You can't know that."

He doesn't argue. He can't, really. We fall into silence instead. Not real silence, though. There's something immensely comforting in the sounds of Alexandria. Kids laughing, the creak and splash of waterwheels, chatter from passersby… I wonder how the hell the Whisperers live like they do, listening only to the snarling and the growling of the walkers. The Guardians, they call them. I suppose they'd find the sound soothing. I'd go completely batshit.

"Gracie!" Aaron hollers suddenly. "You know the rules. No wheelies."

Gracie rolls her eyes, dropping back down onto two wheels, RJ giggling in that smug way little kids do when someone else gets in trouble.

"I blame you," Aaron sighs.

"Why?" I chuckle. "Daryl taught her the wheelies."

"Yeah, but you let him," he points out. "You're guilty by association, my friend."

I just scoff, but I'm distracted before I can respond further when Aaron's neighbor, Phil, stumbles out of his house and down the street, heading for the infirmary.

"How long's Phil been sick?" I question, rising from Aaron's porch steps and squinting after him.

"He was fine yesterday," Aaron says, concerned.

I watch Phil until he reaches his destination, damn near collapsing at the end of the line of sick people snaking out the door and spilling down the steps. Holy shit.

"Will you keep an eye on RJ for me, please?"

"Yeah," Aaron nods, shooing me from his porch. "Yeah, of course."

"RJ!" I shout, the little boy coming to a halt as I bound toward him. "Hey, bud. I'm gonna see if Dr. Dante needs help with the sick people, okay?"

"Okay, Aunt Adie."

"Be good for Aaron," I drop a kiss to one cheek, then the other. "Alright? And eat your vegetables. Hidin' 'em under a napkin doesn't count. I'll be back soon."

"Okay."

He wheels off to catch up with Gracie and I sprint down the street in the other direction, hurtling into the office to find Dante frantically tending to way too many patients.

"Couldn't stay away, huh?" He smirks, breezing past me with a pressure cuff in one hand and a clipboard in the other.

"Where the hell's Siddiq?" I demand.

"I don't know, I've been a little busy."

"Yeah, I can see that," I hiss. "I'm gonna go find Si-"

"No!" Dante interrupts. "No, no, no, don't leave. Please. I need your hands."

"If you're settin' up for some kinda-"

"I'm not!" He assures me. "Seriously, I need your hands," he snatches a thermometer from his pocket and, in a remarkably ill conceived show of blind trust, tosses it my way. "You know how that thing works?"

"No," I spit sarcastically, fingers curling around the thermometer just before it hits the ground.

"Great," he chirps, turning back to his patients. "Grab a clipboard."

I don't have time to argue. I retrieve a clipboard and flit around from patient to patient, taking temperatures and writing down grievances. They're all complaining of the same thing. Upset stomach, chills, fever. Last time this many people I cared about got sick this fast… I shake my head, trying not to think about death row or the sour, bitter taste of elderberries or how much I miss Hershel and Glenn and Sasha. We all got jobs to do.

-

"Dante?"

I whirl around as Siddiq enters the office, Rosita hanging on his arm, his other hand wrapped securely around Coco's car seat handle, dark eyes flickering about the room, horrified. I don't blame him. It's only gotten worse in the last thirty minutes, two more sick Alexandrians trickling in for every one discharged.

"Go ahead and grab a seat wherever," Dante hollers from one of the patient rooms. "I'll be with you in a sec."

"Adie, what the hell is goin' on?" Siddiq demands, helping Rosita into a seat.

"The plague, I think," I huff, shoving my clipboard at his chest so he can read for himself while I hold Phil's puke bowl.

"Hey, guys," Dante greets, emerging from the back room. "I, I, I think the illness is spreading faster than we thought. I, I didn't wanna bother you and then Adie showed up-"

"That is  _ not  _ a decision you get to make," Siddiq snaps. "Damn it, man, this is why I said I shouldn't leave!"

"Hey, Siddiq," Rosita says weakly. "He's… he's trying to help."

Siddiq sighs, collecting himself.

"Start crushing herbs," he orders. "Ginger and mint for the nausea and oil of oregano and yarrow for the fever."

"Alright," Dante agrees.

"This is only gonna get worse if we're not ahead of it," Siddiq announces gravely, following Dante from the room.

*Daryl's POV*

"You good with these rules?"

It's dusk, we probably only got a few minutes of light left, and we're just about to the border. Once we cross, there ain't no going back until we've got what we came here for. I know I've already asked, but I just need to hear it again. Make sure we're clear on what it is we're doing here.

"Yeah," Carol huffs. "Don't be seen."

"No tracks, no killin' walkers neither," I remind her. "Find a bunch of bodies with holes in their heads, we might as well leave a note sayin' we were here."

We've reached the sticks separating our territory from Alpha's. Can't turn back now. It's a good spot to cross. Everything's dense and overgrown these days, but this spot in particular is thick with trees and shrubs and extra tall grass for cover.

"Watch, learn, and leave," Carol recites.

"Yeah," I murmur. "If things go sideways, we head back. We get split up, you meet me right here, alright?"

"Yeah," she nods. "And be safe."

"We got luck on our side," I point out, tapping my vest where I'd stowed the double-capper. "Alright? Come on."

I clap her on the arm and together we disappear into Alpha's woods. I ain't sure why, but I expected the herd to have gotten a bit further into the forest than it is by the time we reach them. I circle around and Carol stays put, the two of us stationing ourselves directly across from each other on either side of the herd. Eyes in both directions. And we watch. The sun sets, plunging us into the dark of night, and we watch. They ain't doing nothin'. They ain't going nowhere. It's been hours. We gotta get back, I gotta get back to Adie. We can come back tomorrow, track 'em from here if they're gone.

I catch Carol's eye and point from her to me and back the way we came. I'm done. She ain't, though. She raises a hand. Wait. Hell, no. This is pointless. We'll pick up tomorrow. I point a little more forcefully, hoping she won't argue. She does. Holding back a sigh, I turn back to the herd and almost immediately wish I hadn't. A twig snaps, leaves crunching in time, and it's like a goddamn bomb went off. I wanna give Carol the benefit of the doubt, but part of me can't. She knows better, I know she does. I think she did it on purpose. Don't matter now though, it's done. I flatten myself against a tree as the walkers and their fuckin' shepherds shuffle through, searching for the source of the sound.

"Not here," one of the Whisperers rasps.

"Keep looking."

Shit, they're close. I take off, silently sprinting towards another tree big enough to hide behind. I got my crossbow raised and ready, just in case, but if there's still a chance we can get outta here without leaving a trace I'm gonna take it, which is why when one of the walkers catches up to me I don't shoot. I grab it from behind, flinging my back against a tree. It's loud, though, growling and snapping its jaws. Gonna lead 'em right to me. I place my forearm across its throat, pushing down hard, crushing the windpipe, and retrieve one of my knives. I slash it across the walker's stomach, trying to ignore the nauseating squelch of congealed blood and entrails spilling from the torn skin, and dig my hand into the corpse. Only way I'm gonna get outta this. Don't make it any less disgusting. I smear the guts on my face and wait.

"Over here."

Jesus, these freaks are fucking creepy. Them long, drawn out whispers, the way they play dead… I wish I wasn't pissing my pants scared, but I am. Doing this was a bad idea, we should've gone to the council first. Done it right. There's still hope, though. The Whisperers are leaving, circling back. They didn't find Carol, neither. I'd've heard. We just gotta wait 'em out, sneak back to the border. We can still get outta this.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Been decades since I got this much attention from younger men," Cheryl jokes weakly.

I hadn't planned on staying this long, but it's like Jim used to say. Man plans, God laughs. I don't believe in God, I never did, but I suspect whatever powers that be are laughing quite a lot these days. It's after dark now, though, and I need to get home to tuck RJ in. Make sure Lydia's okay, feed Dog, worry about Daryl and Carol and why the hell they're still out there… I lean against the wall, waiting for Siddiq to finish up with Cheryl. I don't wanna interrupt.

"Well, you're my patient, so..." Siddiq chuckles softly, holding an ice pack to the older woman's forehead. "It's kinda my job to keep an eye on you."

"Then what's with the look of gloom and doom?" Cheryl demands. "I feel like I'm nappin' next to the grim reaper."

"That's just Phil," I quip, nodding at the sleeping man in the bed next to hers.

She flashes me a cheeky grin before turning her attention back to Siddiq.

"Sorry," he chuckles. "I'm just, um, a little concerned."

"Oh, hon," she says tenderly. "In this world, most don't get the luxury driftin' off in a nice, comfy bed. I should be so lucky."

Dante chooses this moment to appear behind me, bucket full of puke in hand. God, the stench makes my stomach roll. Still, I cross the room to get the door for him.

"Get some rest," Siddiq murmurs, patting her on the hand and practically sprinting to beat me to the door. "Hey, hey, I'll get it for you."

"Oh, thanks, man," Dante says softly, moving to step outside.

"About what I said earlier," Siddiq stops him. "I, um…"

"No worries," Dante assures him. "I get it. We're stuck with pre-industrial age meds and simple shit can suddenly become a big deal. We'll figure it out."

"Thanks, Dante," Siddiq sighs. "I, I… appreciate your help."

"You should," Dante quips. "I'm kind of amazing."

"Humble, too," I smirk.

"Get some rest, boss," Dante chuckles, disappearing to empty the puke bucket and go home.

Siddiq closes the door after him and turns to me expectantly.

"I'm, uh…" I clear my throat. "I'm gonna head out, if you're, if you're good here."

"Oh, um… yeah," he says, reaching for the doorknob again. "Yeah, I think we're good. Thanks."

"You want me to take Coco for the night?"

"What?" He blinks in confusion, eyes darting around the room like he just woke up in a place he doesn't know. "Oh, no. No, she's… I'm gonna keep her here, you know, um… lap up the daddy daughter shit or whatever."

"Okay," I snicker. "If you change your mind…"

"I know where to find you," he nods, squeezing my hand appreciatively. "Thanks again, Adie."

"Any time," I grin. "I love bein' puked on as much as the next guy."

He just rolls his eyes and I shuffle out the door. I'd kinda been hoping he'd take me up on the offer. Watching Coco would be a damn good distraction from the anxiety that roars through me every time I think about Daryl. Still, I do have other shit to take care of. It'll be fine. They're probably on their way back now. Maybe they'll be here before I convince RJ to get in the bath.

*Daryl's POV*

By the time I manage to get my ass back to the border, Carol's already there. But she ain't alone.

"What the hell is this?"

"He saw me."

She's taken a fucking hostage. This ain't exactly leaving no trace. Watch, learn, and leave my fucking ass.

"We can take him back, see what he knows," she insists. "Maybe it's a good thing."

"Did you plan this?"

"No," safe spits, but she did, she fucking planned it.

She yanks the guy to his feet and I snatch his wrists, glaring at her pointedly. Zip ties ain't really a pack just in case you need 'em thing.

"What's this?" I demand. "It wasn't in your bag."

"Guess you missed it," she mutters. "Come on. We don't have time to argue, it's done."

Yeah, and she made damn sure of that, didn't she?

*Adrienne's POV*

"How do you say that word?"

Lydia's been studying Denise's old psychology textbooks. I didn't think I'd be able to sleep last night, I really didn't, but exhaustion eventually won the war. I woke this morning and still no Daryl. I got RJ out the door for school, turned Dog loose to run the streets, and brought breakfast down to Lydia. She's chattier than she usually is. I lean over the chair she's propped her book open on and squint at the word just above her fingertip.

"Adrenocorticotropic."

"Adrenocorticotropic hormone," she mutters, furrowing her brows and flipping to the glossary. "A hormone made in the pi… in the pit…"

"Pituitary," I supply.

"Pituitary gland. Adrenocorticotropic hormone acts on the outer part of the adrenal gland to control its release of cortico… corticosteroid hormones. Also called ACTH or corticotropin."

"God, I knew there was a reason I didn't go into psychiatry," I quip.

"Well, what did you do anyway? Before?"

"Drugs, mostly."

Her eyes fly to mine, surprised and more than a little disbelieving.

"Are you serious?"

"Mhmm," I nod. "Well, actually… I was clean for a while, but I fell off when my mama died."

"How'd she die?"

"Car accident," I murmur, tracing the scar that strikes through the skin of my forearm which no one seems to notice anymore. We're all banged up now. "I was 22."

"How old are you now?"

"Somewhere between 22 and 80," I chuckle. "I'm not sure, I stopped keepin' track a long time ago. I was 27 when this all started, livin' with an asshole I only liked when I was high."

"Wait, you weren't… you weren't with Daryl?"

She never talks this much. She's all but abandoned her book, watching me like I'm some sort of alien creature she's never seen before. Maybe she'll open up more if I do. Maybe she'll know she can.

"No," I smile sadly. "No, I was… I didn't meet Daryl til after the turn. We met at a camp outside Atlanta I think a week or maybe two after the military bombed the city. Carol, too. We… we're all that's left of that group."

She's quiet for a beat or two, mouth screwed to one side like she's thinking hard and I wonder if having her mouth like that hurts the cuts on her lip.

"I guess I just thought…" she trails off, waving her hand like she can pluck the words she wants from the air. "You guys just seem like you've been together a lot longer than that. Like soulmates or somethin'."

I stifle a giggle at the term. Soulmates. I never really accepted the idea that there's one person out of billions out there meant for just you, but… my soul would recognize Daryl's anywhere. I'm sure of that much.

"Is that stupid to say?" Lydia questions uncertainly.

"No," I assure her. "No, it's not stupid. You know, um… you know Father Gabriel?" She nods even though it was a dumb thing to ask 'cause of course she does. "He married us here. Me and Daryl, I mean. Right in the infirmary. Romantic, huh?"

I grin and she grins back, the uncertainty gone from her face. I don't think I've seen her smile, really smile, the whole time I've known her. It makes me happy.

"So, uh…" she chuckles, shaking her head. "So did you always wanna be a druggie? Or…"

"No," I laugh. "No, I wanted to be the president," she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "No, it's true. When I was six. And then, uh… and then I wanted to be a florist and after that I wanted to be an archaeologist. When I was in high school, I wanted to play professional soccer or be a coffee house singer and open a yoga studio on the side," I sigh, something a little sad and wistful tugging at my heartstrings. "But that was a long time ago. Now I just wanna be alive."

"Well… you're good at that," she points out cheekily, turning back to her book.

"Thanks," I chuckle.

It's quiet again, but only for a few minutes before some kind of commotion sounds outside, several pairs of feet stomping down the cell steps.

"Come on," Daryl commands, bursting through the door. "Get out."

I leap to my feet, Lydia following suit. I'm fucking ecstatic for about a fraction of a second. Daryl's back! They're both back, they're both back and…

"What the hell is this?" I demand.

"We need the cell," Daryl says, as though that's explanation enough.

It is for Lydia. She shuffles past the bound and gagged man in Carol's arms, something like recognition in her eyes. I can't tell what she's thinking, but Carol's staring the girl down as though she dares her to say one word. She doesn't. She flees. I glance at Daryl but he's not looking at me, guilt and exhaustion written all over him. I grab his hand and squeeze in an I'm-glad-you're-back-in-one-piece sort of way and barrel after Lydia. She's fast but she didn't run far. I catch up to her just as she's settling down on top of one of the rolling vegetable carts near the mess hall. I take a seat beside her and she leans against me, quiet and stoic as ever, but I can feel her trembling. Carol emerges from the cell seconds later and marches her way over to us.

"You know him?" She demands, and Lydia nods.

"He's one that watches the guardians," she says, then shakes her head. "I mean, the walkers."

"So he knows where your mother's horde is?" Carol presses.

I shoot her a glare over the top of Lydia's head. She's gotta be fucking kidding me. When Alpha finds out we took one of her guys  _ hostage…  _ and Daryl  _ let _ her? Helped her do it? Why the hell would he risk something like this?

"Probably," Lydia says.

"You've put us all at risk," Gabe shouts, approaching from the direction of the cell with Daryl on his heels.

"We have to find the horde before it shows up at our gates," Carol points out.

"So you decide for all of us?" Gabe demands. "Knowing what it could mean?"

"Doesn't matter anymore," Daryl says flatly. "We still gotta find 'em."

"There's a good chance we don't," I spit. "You think Alpha's just gonna let this one slide? That horde could be headed our way  _ right now. _ "

"They're  _ not, _ " Carol snaps. "We need to know where they are and we're gonna get it out of him."

"I'm gonna be in there with you," Gabe says angrily, jabbing a finger in Carol's direction. "And Siddiq is gonna treat his wounds first."

"He bleeds until he answers," Carol insists.

"That's not your call," Gabe argues. "None of this is. You did what you did, but  _ I'm  _ not gonna let it go from bad to worse, and I think the council would agree.  _ Including  _ Michonne."

Carol falls silent at that, but I don't think it's out of regret or remorse. She did what she did knowing damn well what it was and she doesn't care what the consequences are. She exchanges a glance with Daryl, but even he isn't coming to her defense.

"Come on," she says, turning her gaze to Lydia. "You can stay with me."

She doesn't wait for a response, practically sprinting off towards our house. I scoff and get to my feet, helping Lydia to hers and trailing after Carol. Daryl's right on my heels and I can feel his gaze boring into my back the whole way home.

*Daryl's POV*

Adie's pissed. More pissed than I thought she'd be. The kind of pissed I can feel rolling off her skin. I think she's holding her tongue for Lydia's sake, but soon as she's out of earshot or at least not in the immediate vicinity, I got a feeling me and Carol are gonna get an earful.

"All right," Carol sighs, holding the door open for Lydia, Adie, then me to pass through. "You can go on up."

"I'll bring your things later," Adie says softly. "Okay?"

Lydia nods and shuffles up the stairs. I try to make a quick getaway now while I still can, before Adie unleashes whatever unholy hell she's got pent up for Carol. I beeline for the basement stairs.

"Thanks for havin' my back with Gabriel," Carol spits before I've made it down even one step.

Adie's eyes are flickering sharply between the two of us, almost cat-like in the way she's biding her time.

"It's just the truth," I mutter.

"The Whisperer's not gonna give it up easy," Carol announces. "If you wanna sit this out, I get it."

Adie scoffs, crossing her arms and leaning against the door. I ain't sure how much she's pieced together, but I almost don't even give a shit. I'm tired, I'm pissed off, and I smell like guts. I stomp down the stairs, reaching the bottom just as Adie starts her descent. Shit.

*Adrienne's POV*

"So."

I'm trying to exude utter calm, which proves quite difficult when I reach the bottom of the stairs to find Daryl stripping off his shirt and vest. Even filthy and reeking, he's beautiful to me. Scars and tattoos and tan lines I've traced with my fingers, my lips. Skin stretched over muscles that move like snakes, that line of dark hair that runs down his belly and disappears beneath his waistband… soulmates or something. God damn it, no. Not now. Fucking focus.

"You wanna tell me what the hell happened out there?"

He's quiet, but I know he's not ignoring me. He's pissed, too. I can see it. He whistles and Dog comes running, headbutting him right in the gut. I crouch down and pick up Daryl's discarded clothing, tossing it over the desk stool while man and dog reunite.

"Yeah, good boy," he murmurs, making kissy noises. "Good boy. Come on."

He slaps the couch cushions, Dog obediently leaping onto the furniture, waiting for Daryl to sink into his spot before flopping down and resting three quarters of his body in his lap. Dog has no idea how big he is. Daryl doesn't mind though, kicking a heel up on the coffee table and relaxing under Dog's weight. It's times like these I really miss cameras. I'd love a photo of this.

"You gon' sit or jus' keep starin'?" Daryl blurts, not quite catching my eyes.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" I fire back, settling cross-legged beside Dog, narrowly avoiding an excited tail to the face, squinting at my husband. "And why you have blood in your neck folds?"

"Neck folds?" He echoes, wrinkling his nose.

"Yeah," I shrug. "We're gettin' older. Neck folds are a thing now. Sorry."

"You ain't got neck folds."

"Yet," I concede. "I got eye folds, though. Various… face folds," I shake my head and he chuckles. "Quit tryin' to change the subject."

"She said we were lookin' for Negan," he sighs, scratching Dog behind the ears. "'N then we were lookin' for the horde. Just lookin'."

"She take the gun?"

"I never saw it, no. She says she didn't, but…"

"But she wouldn't know the truth if it bit her in the ass?" I suggest.

"Yeah," he frowns. "We were just watchin', seein' what we see, this… big field by one of her borders. The Whisperers came and for a while they were just gatherin' up more walkers, but they started movin' 'em at sunset. We followed 'em."

"You… crossed the border?"

His silence is confirmation and the rage I'd felt upon seeing the Whisperer at the cell starts to simmer.

"Why the hell would you do that?" I demand, stricken.

"She was jus' gonna do it anyway."

He has a point. But still…

"What if you didn't come home?"

He just looks at me from under his lashes, something a little like guilt and a little like annoyance flashing in his eyes.

"What was I supposed to do, Adrienne? Leave her?"

I sigh heavily, dropping my head in my hands and rubbing my temples.

"So what do we do now?" I murmur. "Kill 'im? He's not gonna talk. You know that. So, so… so we're gonna torture him until Carol's satisfied he's not gonna break. Then we're gonna kill him, 'cause he can't stay here. And what about Lydia? She already doesn't feel safe, killin' someone she knew… how are we supposed to justify that?"

He looks away, chewing at his lip. He can't answer that. He knows how this ends. That Whisperer can't be left alive, not if he doesn't talk. Then again, maybe it doesn't matter anyway. Maybe we're all as good as dead already.

"She manipulated you." I blurt. "She  _ lied. _ She put you and everyone else we love in danger."

"Yeah, well," he shrugs. "She's grievin'."

"That's not an excuse, Daryl," I point out. "She lead you into somethin' she  _ knew  _ might end with you both dyin' and she didn't care. Doesn't… doesn't that piss you off?"

He's silent again. He looks so damn lost. Makes me wanna kick Carol's ass for doing this to him, of all people. He's always had her back, stood by her no matter what… and she  _ lies _ to him? Gambles with his life like it means nothing to her? Like losing the two of them wouldn't fucking  _ crush _ me?

"Where you goin'?" Daryl demands when I get to my feet and start for the door.

"To talk to Carol."

"Adie…" he sighs, eyes fluttering closed when I stop to press a kiss to his forehead.

"It'll be fine," I assure him. "Don't worry about it. You need to rest, anyway. And wash your neck folds."

"Oh, my god," he scoffs. "Couldn't you just call 'em wrinkles like a normal person?"

"I never claimed to be normal," I chuckle, leaving the room and tromping up the stairs. "Take a shower."

I make my way up the second flight of stairs and press my ear to Carol's door. I can hear voices, but they're muffled, faint… coming from down the hallway, I realize. Carol and Lydia must be on the balcony. I silently steal down the hallway, pressing myself flat against the wall just beyond the open doors.

"What else?" Carol questions.

She's grilling her for information. I curl my fingers into fists, my nails digging little half-moons into my palms.

"People will die, right?" Lydia asks flatly, and I don't need to see her to know she's holding back tears. "I  _ hate  _ them… But I know them, too."

"Alpha drew a line, and you need to choose which side you're on."

I scowl, crossing my arms and tilting my head to one side, listening intently.

"I wish I'd left with Henry when he asked."

"So do I."

"My mom twists people," Lydia announces. "Gets 'em to do what she wants. Makes them think it's what they want. People obey 'cause they think they have no other choice… but if you let him see what you have here, that a place like this can survive… an idea like that is dangerous. It would spread. And there's nothin' my mom could do to stop it."

They're both quiet long enough I decide I better go before they realize I'm here. I still wanna set Carol straight, but that's gonna have to wait until later. I don't want Lydia to feel like this is her fault, and I know she will if I yell at Henry's mom in front of her. I ghost my way back downstairs, intent on joining Daryl in the shower, only to find he didn't actually make it to the shower. He's out like a light, chest rising and falling, snoring softly in time with his breath. Dog's still curled up on his stomach. Damn, I wish I had a camera.

*Daryl's POV*

Carol seems a little surprised when I don't  _ sit this one out,  _ but she had to know I wasn't gonna let her hang out in a cell with that fuckin' psycho and not be there. Adie, apparently, feels the same way despite her anger. It's still weird to me, the idea you can be pissed as hell at somebody you love and still love 'em. Ain't how I grew up thinking love worked. Gabriel's here to supervise, seemingly under the impression it's him and Adie against the world now, in the sense that me and Carol fucked up and Adie's here to help him keep us in line. Hell, maybe she is. Carol saunters into the cell first, a covered tray in her hands, and takes a seat on the wooden chair in front of the cot.

"Let's get started," she says brightly, and it's all I can do not to roll my eyes.

She whips the napkin of the tray with a flourish, revealing a plate loaded up with tomato and apple slices and two thick slices of bread, the whole thing surrounded by tiny jars of every kind of jam, sauce, and preserve we had on hand. The man stares in surprise like he was expecting drills and pliers and really long needles or some shit.

"So, what's it gonna be?" Carol questions, lifting a slice of bread with one hand, the knife in her other hand hovering over the jars. "Honey or jam? Strawberry or apple?"

The man leans forward and Adie tenses, her hand already resting on the knife hanging from her belt.

"All of it."

"Not a problem," Carol simpers, serving up the works. "We have  _ plenty  _ here. For lunch, I was thinking… salted fish. I like to wrap 'em up in a fresh piece of lettuce, add a little-"

"What do you want?" The man blurts, eyes darting feverishly from Carol's face to the food and back again.

"Well, right now, we're just gonna talk," Carol says.

"Pass."

"Okay," Carol says agreeably, offering the bread she's just finished slathering in jam. "Then eat."

If the man's bothered by a group of strangers watching him chew, he don't show it. It's a little sad, really, the way he bites into the bread like he ain't seen real food in years. The Whisperers really do live like animals. Ain't no way to be. He's got the entire slice of bread in his mouth in a few bites, but he ain't swallowing it. He's savoring it, eyes closed, this look of rapture on his face… I glance at Adie. She ain't softened at all, hand still poised over her knife, and I wonder what she's seeing I ain't that's got her so worried.

"Good?" Carol murmurs.

The man raises his eyes to hers and spits, spraying her with chunks of wet, sticky, thoroughly chewed bread.

"No."

"You son of a bitch," Adie hisses, the two of us lurching forward into the cell to flank Carol.

PTA Carol is gone, though. Erratic, homicidal Carol is back and we're probably worse off now. Adie snatches the napkin from beside the tray and passes it to Carol to clean up with. Something twists and coils in my guts when the man's eyes slide up and down Adie's body, watching her with that same feverish look he'd given the bread.

"Where's the horde?" Carol demands, tossing the cloth aside.

She gives him half a second to answer before she's up out of her seat and digging her thumb into the wound she'd left on his chest when she captured him. Dante's stitches ain't gonna do shit for him now. He cries out in pain, blood gushing through his bandage.

"Tell me," Carol hisses.

"Lady," he gasps. "You have the animal in you. If we were out there, I would take you like a bitch in heat."

Adie moves so fast my brain don't even have time to process her moving from one spot to the other, knife gleaming in the sunlight as she lays it across the man's throat.

"Speak to her like that again," she says softly, gripping him by the back of the head and trailing the edge of her knife up his Adam's apple, up over his chin before pressing it flat over his lips and holding it there, hard. "I'll cut your tongue out, am I clear?"

The man dips his head once, whimpering, nostrils flaring, but he ain't afraid. He ain't afraid and this is a waste of time. Adie releases him and Carol retrieves her wedding ring from her pocket, sliding it on and wiggling her fingers before hurling a punch at the man's face, splitting the skin over his cheekbone. She hits him again and again, until there's blood splattering onto the floor. She's gonna hurt herself.

"That's enough," I mutter, catching her hand before she can deliver another hit.

"No, let 'em keep going," the man mumbles breathlessly. "I haven't had this much fun in years."

I glare at him, disgusted. If Adie could kill with just her eyeballs, this guy would be dead several times over.

"You're all weak," he says simply.

I step closer to him, pulling one of my own knives out, using it like a pointer. Weak ain't what he's gonna remember when I'm done with him.

"I'm gon' start with your fingers first," I threaten. "Then both your ears. Then I'm gonna take all your teeth."

"You lie to yourselves," he continues. "To each other. You fight for what?  _ Sandwiches? _ "

I snatch his wrist, yanking his arm up and flattening his hand against the wall behind him, knife poised to take his fingers. I ain't playing.

"You ignore the truth," he says, locking eyes with me. "When it's staring you in the face. I would never betray Alpha. She rescued me. She protects me. She loves me. She loves us all. She sacrificed her own daughter for us."

"She killed Lydia?" Carol questions, and I can fucking see the wheels turning.

"Uh-huh," the man confirms. "She did. And I am willing to give my life for her."

*Adrienne's POV*

"No," I hiss, grabbing Carol by the elbow and whirling her around to face me. "Carol,  _ no. _ "

After that asshole revealed Alpha's lie, Carol ran. I'm not gonna let her do this. I'm not. Daryl's right on my heels and my heart swells just a little knowing he's finally putting his foot down.

"This ends now," Carol insists, already halfway up our front steps.

"You are  _ not  _ gettin' Lydia mixed up in this," Daryl says firmly.

"He swallowed  _ every ounce _ of Alpha's bullshit," she spits as Gabe comes hurtling up the steps, skidding to a stop just before he reaches the top stair. "Every ounce. If he sees Lydia's alive and well, gets it that his great leader lied to him, then maybe that changes something."

"No," I repeat. "Absolutely not. I don't give a shit  _ what  _ it changes, Carol, you're not doin' this. You're not gonna keep riskin' the people  _ I  _ love,  _ mine,  _ 'cause you think you know better."

"Please," Daryl says softly, placing a soothing hand on the small of my back. "That kid's been through enough."

"Let her make up her own mind," Carol pleads.

"You know she'll say yes if you ask!" I hiss. "You  _ know  _ that. All this time she's been blamin' herself for Henry, blamin' herself for  _ all  _ of it and, and, and you just let her go on believin' it's her fault. Tellin' her to pick a  _ side, _ " Carol's eyes widen at the realization I was listening. "How many times did you go runnin' back to Ed? Huh? How many times?"

Tears prick Carol's eyes and my stomach flips, souring with guilt. I went too far. I wanna take it back immediately or… or say it better or…

"Carol, I, I didn't…" I stutter. "I didn't mean that, I just… you know better than most what it's like for her. Don't put her through this. Please."

"This is the only way and you know it," she says coldly.

She disappears into the house and I try to follow her, but Daryl stops me, closing his hand around my wrist. I jerk myself from his grasp, glaring.

"You can't be serious," I snap.

"She ain't right," he murmurs, eyes pleading with mine. "But she's right."

"Gabe."

"What?"

"Give me the keys."

The priest and I lock gazes. He nods once, holding the ring of keys aloft in offering. I square my shoulders and march down the cell steps. Parading Lydia around for this guy like some kind of fucking show dog isn't the only solution. I'm gonna kill him. Right now.

"We walk in darkness, we are free. We bathe in blood, we are free. We walk in darkness, we are free…"

The Whisperer is chanting, shaking, sweating bullets. It's like he's gone rabid. Daryl and Gabe stop just short of running into my back, the three of us staring in horror as the man continues to mutter and tremble.

"Get Siddiq," I breathe.

-

"I don't know," Gabe says worriedly, announcing his and Daryl's return, Siddiq and Dante on their heels. "We came back and he was shaking in pain."

I unlock the cell and the five of us file inside, Dante first.

"Put your healin' hands on me, doc," the man commands, Dante kneeling beside his cot. "I'm burnin' up here."

"What's the problem?" Dante questions calmly.

"How the hell should I know?" The Whisperer demands. "Just make it stop!"

"I got it," Siddiq announces, joining Dante on the floor, med bag in hand.

"I'm on this, Jefé," Dante assures him.

"No, come on," Siddiq insists, shouldering the other man out of his way. "All right, his breathing's labored. Pupils dilated, his muscles are convulsing."

"But no signs of infection," Dante says. "It doesn't make sense."

The Whisperer lurches forward, both doctors attempting to hold him back as he vomits blood, splattering Dante's lab coat and splashing onto the floor.

"Dante!" Siddiq hollers, holding onto the sick man as he falls to the ground, thrashing, eyes rolling in their sockets. "In my bag, grab the red bark! Red bark!"

Dante dives for the bag, rifling through the contents while Siddiq attempts to soothe the man howling on the floor. It doesn't matter. He's dead. As if on cue, Carol and Lydia burst through the door.

"No," Daryl murmurs, leaping to his feet, attempting to shield the body from Lydia's view. "No, Carol."

It's too late. Carol shepherds Lydia from the room, but she saw. God damn it. Daryl takes my hand in his, lacing our fingers, and we stare down at the corpse on the floor. Siddiq sighs, then plucks a glass jar filled with some type of dried green balls of plant matter that probably cure cancer and keeps you regular or some shit, I don't know, squinting.

"This morning…" he trails off, eyeing Dante. "Did you give this to him?"

"Yeah, for pain and inflammation," Dante nods.

"You killed him," Siddiq says softly.

"How?" Dante scoffs. "No, that's yarrow."

"It's hemlock," Siddiq corrects.

"I… I didn't know," Dante protests. "I… I didn't know. I thought, uh-"

"What?" Siddiq demands. "You thought what?"

"I never thought hemlock would be in the bag because, um…"

"Because what, Dante?"

"Because you packed it."


	24. Accept The Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of miscarriage

**Chapter 24**

*Daryl's POV*

"Damn it," Adie huffs, raking her hands through her hair. "I gotta go make sure Lydia's okay," she regards the body warily. "Get him outta here before anybody  _ sees _ him. No one can know about this."

She whirls on her heel and stomps from the cell, leaving silence in her wake. This is my fault. If I'd stopped Carol, none of this would be a problem. But I didn't.

"She's right," Gabriel murmurs eventually. "If people find out, they'll panic. If Alpha finds out…"

"She won't," I mutter, dropping to one knee and thrusting my knife into the dead man's skull. "I'll clean up the mess."

"I'll help," Gabriel says firmly as I get back to my feet. "'Cause it's not your mess to clean."

Before I can argue, before either of us can make another move, Adie's bursting back into the cell.

"They're gone."

*Adrienne's POV*

"Adie!"

I ignore Daryl, continuing my way to the stable, but he's right behind me. He grabs for my elbow and I wheel around, yanking my arm from his grasp.

"She  _ took  _ Lydia," I snap. "She didn't get her to the cell in time, so she's takin' her to the border, finishin' what she started. I'm gonna stop her."

Voltaire nickers when I enter his stall, nudging me with his nose and releasing a stream of hot air into my face. I chuckle softly, forgetting my rage for a moment and stroking the top of his nose. He gets plenty of attention around here, but I think maybe he's missing me a little bit. I give him some extra love before grabbing his brush from the bucket outside his stall and beginning the tedious but necessary task of brushing the dirt and dust from his hair.

"How you gonna stop her?" Daryl questions quietly. "Huh?"

I haven't thought that far ahead, really. I don't know how far Carol's willing to go to meet her own ends. She's repeatedly put us all in danger, people she loves, people who love her… and she won't stop. She doesn't care. She wants Alpha's head on a pike so bad she can't see how dangerous she is. I want her to pay, too, I do, but… I don't wanna lose anyone else in the process. We can fight them, just not yet. Not until we know we can win. It's not about just taking Alpha. We have to take them all out, including the horde, or we  _ all _ die.

"I don't know," I mutter, reaching for Voltaire's saddle blanket and placing it high on his neck, dragging it down his back into place. "I don't… I don't know if I  _ can _ stop her, Daryl, but I'm bringin' Lydia back. You said it, that kid's been through enough."

I cinch Voltaire's saddle and fit his bridle while Daryl just stands there, gnawing on his lip and staring at the ground. I drop the reins and take his hands in mine, waiting for him to look at me.

"None of this is your fault," I murmur. "Okay? Not the Whisperer, not Carol, none of it."

He nods like he doesn't quite believe me and I wanna shake Carol until she understands, make her see what she's doing to him. He feels like he's failing her and he's failing all of us, but he's got it backwards. Carol's failing him. She's failing all of us and she's failing herself and she's failing  _ Henry. _ If she gets us all killed, the ten people we lost that day, Henry, Tara, Enid… it's all pointless. It's pointless. I smooth Daryl's hair back and press my lips to his forehead.

"I'm comin' with you," he announces.

"We can't both leave," I argue. "Gabe needs you here, and RJ."

"Then you stay," he suggests. "I'll go. It ain't on you."

"Shouldn't be on you all the time, either," I point out. "I'll take this one. I won't be gone long, I'm gonna catch up and I'm gonna bring 'em home."

He doesn't like it, but he nods and before I can turn back to my horse, he grabs hold of me, his hands cradling the sides of my face, and crashes his lips into mine. For a man who never kissed anybody before he met me he sure as hell knows what he's doing, and I lose myself for just a few moments.

"Be safe," He mutters between kisses. "Alright?"

"I will," I promise him.

"I'll walk you to the gate."

-

"Woah," I murmur. "Easy."

I've just found Carol's horse, but Carol and Lydia aren't with him. After we'd lost two of our mares to walkers 'cause they were bound to a tree and couldn't get away, we'd trained all the horses to be ground tied. I dismount Voltaire, dropping to the dirt and searching for a trail, tracks, anything… there's nothing. I know it's not a coincidence. Carol covered her tracks, didn't want me finding her. I weigh my options. I could keep going. We're only a mile or two from the east border, I could take Voltaire and ride alongside it until I find her. Problem is I don't know if she went north or south, not to mention the possibility she left the horse here on purpose so I'd think she's crossing the east border… shit. She could be anywhere.

Tears, unbidden and hot, sting my eyes. What the hell do I do? I can't just pick a direction and go, it's a waste of time and energy and it's gonna be dark soon. I could wait here for them to come back, but what the hell good does that do? By then, the damage is already done. I sweep the small clearing one more time, circling the perimeter, but it's pointless. Maybe Daryl would've picked up a trail, but I don't see anything at all. It feels so… intentional. I didn't think for a second… it isn't Carol, putting a kid in danger like this. It wasn't Carol to risk Daryl's life, either, but she did that, too. I drag the backs of my hands across my eyes and lift Voltaire's reins from the ground, remounting him. There's nothing else I can do here. Carol left me with no other option. I have to go back.

*Daryl's POV*

The sun had set by the time Adie thundered back through the gates. Alone. She was angry and got angrier still when Gabriel told her about Cheryl dying while she was away. Siddiq figured out why our people are sick, but it was too late for the old woman. Somebody messed with the water filters, bent one of the levers the wrong way. Water. This whole time, no one could figure out why and it was right there. Me and Gabriel took the Whisperer outside the walls and burned the body. Best way to make sure Alpha never finds out we had him here.

Carol returned a couple hours after Adie did, Aaron in tow. They met up with some Whisperer Aaron's been talking to, showed her Lydia's alive. Lydia got upset, ran off. That's what Carol says happened and I only believe it 'cause Aaron said the same thing and he don't lie. Adie won't speak to them. She ain't talking to me, neither. I'm curled against her in our bed, waiting for her breathing to change, her eyes to close, before I give in to my own exhaustion. She got attached to the kid. I guess I did, too, if I'm honest. If Alpha finds out she's alive, that she ain't with us no more…

"She's as good as dead," Adie says quietly, like she's managed to climb into my head and read my mind.

"We don't know that," I mutter, voice muffled against her neck. "She ain't goin' back to 'em."

"She's out there alone, Daryl, and we both know how dangerous that is."

She's right. Still, I'm hoping Lydia's coming back. She ain't got a lot of options and maybe she don't feel safe here, but she's gotta feel safer than out there at least. I do. I ain't sure when that happened, but I do. I feel safer around people. Or maybe I just feel safer 'cause Adie's here and she's like the sun and I'm like a lizard. Ain't sure how I got by without her. Ain't sure how to tell her that shit except just to hold her and hope she knows she's the sun.

*Adrienne's POV*

It's late. Or early, I suppose, depending on perspective. The silvery grey light of pre-dawn is filtering in through the windows and I haven't managed to drift off yet. Daryl's sleeping despite himself, one arm curled under our pillows and the other draped over my waist. We're getting older, but he still looks like a child when he sleeps. Guileless and vulnerable in a way he rarely looks when awake despite having become just a little less guarded over the years. With everything that's happened today, I didn't have a chance to tell him about our maybe baby. I don't know if I want to, not yet. I haven't even taken a test yet, I didn't want to risk being seen by anyone at the infirmary. I don't want anyone to know, not like last time… everyone knew I was pregnant and then everyone knew I wasn't and I can't take that again. I don't want Daryl to get his hopes up, either. But I have to know.

I slip out from under Daryl, careful not to wake him, and step over Dog. I'm hoping the pup doesn't see my exit as a prime opportunity to steal my spot on the bed until after I've left the house. A hundred pound mass of fluffy muscle leaping into the sheets would definitely wake Daryl and then he'll want to know what I'm up for and I'm a bad liar. I just wanna do this one step at a time. I'm just gonna take the test. I don't know why the idea of peeing on a stick suddenly feels terrifying but as I slip out the front door and steal my way down the street, my heart lodges itself in my throat, thundering double-time, and I almost don't hear the muffled cries coming from Siddiq's house.

Almost.

Coco is a bit fussy. Coco cries. Coco cries a lot. That's not what worries me. What worries me are the silhouettes I can see in the upstairs window. Three people, and they're fighting. Someone screams and I break into a sprint, hurtling through Siddiq's front door and up the stairs, skidding to a halt outside the bedroom just as Rosita comes careening from the bathroom. She launches herself at Dante, hurling her fist into his face several times, knocking the man unconscious, while I just stand there, frozen to my spot, staring in horror at the body on the floor just inside the bathroom.

"It's okay," Rosita sobs, rushing to lift Coco from the bathtub, clutching the baby to her chest. "It's okay. It's okay, it's okay, it's okay…"

Siddiq is dead.

*Daryl's POV*

Dante's a Whisperer. He was there in the barn when Alpha killed Henry and the others. He killed Siddiq, tried to kill Rosita and the baby. All this time, we've had one of 'em in these walls, right under our noses, and nobody knew. He's sitting here in the infirmary, staring smugly around the room like he deserves some kinda fuckin' trophy. I curl my fingers into a fist and hurl it at his face, right where Rosita's own fist had left its mark.

"Hope that hurts," I mumble while he coughs and sputters, spitting blood onto the floor.

"Doesn't matter," he says quietly, holding up his bound wrists. "None of this matters. Watch enough people get incinerated, devoured alive, you see how ridiculous it is getting attached to ourselves."

I've been trying to quit, trying not to reach for a smoke every time I feel the least bit on edge, but I need something. Ain't even made it two days. I retrieve a cigarette from my pocket and stick it between my lips and Adie don't even glance my way. She's staring at Dante, eyes red-rimmed and on fire. She was the first on the scene, Rosita says. Just happened to be passing by, a casual stroll at five in the morning. I still ain't had a chance to ask her why she was out so early. She wanted to put Dante down right then and there when she found out what he did. Rosita convinced her not to, that we need him alive, but I can see it in her eyes. He makes one wrong move right now, ain't nothin' gonna stop Adie from killing him this time.

"But knowing that sets you free," he continues.

"Is that what you're doing?" Carol hisses. "Setting us free?"

"If you learn that lesson," Dante nods. "It'll only help you."

"What, so we can be more like you?" I scoff, lighting up.

"Accept the future."

"Siddiq depended on you," Gabriel snaps. "Why put him through all that hell in the barn just to kill him months later? I, I can't see an ideology behind that."

"I  _ liked _ Siddiq," Dante announces. 

"Oh, you liked him?" Rosita questions flatly.

"It wasn't part of the plan. But he found out who I was, so I had no choice."

"What plan?" Carol demands.

"Encourage your paranoia about us…" Dante explains. "Which will push you into bad decisions. Places like this are cruel promises to their people, and they crumble at the smallest nick. Hell, I'm gonna enjoy watching you rip each other apart over what to do with me. Just like with Negan."

"Is that what you want?" Gabriel asks. "A public reckoning? A chance to be heard?"

"That's what you'll give me," Dante simpers. "Because it's right."

"We helped you," Rosita spits.

"Why?" Dante counters. "'Cause you wanted another doctor around? You got something from me, too," he shakes his head. "Don't pretend you didn't."

Rosita hisses something in Spanish that don't sound good, face contorting in rage as she begins to pace the length of floor behind the bed where Dante's perched.

"No one is actually kind," he says, eyes boring into Adie's like he can see how close she is and he's  _ trying _ to push her over the edge, make her snap and kill him. "We are selfish. We are brutal. Come on. Even seeing all those heads on spikes didn't teach you what people are?"

Adie and Rosita move at the same time, Rosita's foot connecting with Dante's spine, sending him tumbling from the bed and onto the floor, where Adie straddles him, both fists flying. Rosita shakes her head, this time leaving Adie to do what she will and shoving past Aaron, who has just appeared in the doorway. I ain't sure who decided to move first, to stop staring at Adie's blood-slicked hands and stop her beating him to death, but it takes me, Gabriel, and Aaron to pull her off Dante, and it's only when Carol takes hold of her elbows that Adie snaps out of her haze.

"Don't touch me!" She hisses, her voice so caustic and venomous Carol physically recoils like she'd slapped her.

Watching Adie disappear out the door, bloody and shaking with rage, I know Dante's got at least one thing right. We are brutal. After making sure Dante's still got a pulse, we dump him in the cell and leave Gabriel to keep watch, Carol and I taking to our kitchen to fill Aaron in.

"He's been here  _ four months, _ " Aaron murmurs, stricken. "How didn't I know?"

"None of us did," I point out.

The front door opens, somebody stepping inside, and we fall silent for a moment, just until the door shuts and Adie materializes, slinking into the room and dropping into a seat at the table with Aaron. Her knuckles are cracked and bleeding and she ain't looking at anyone.

"We all ate together," Aaron sighs. "Talked about training the militia. He… he treated Gracie."

"You can't do that to yourself," Carol tells him.

"Yeah," I agree, tearing my eyes from Adie's hands. "Especially now. We gotta keep our heads straight, try to figure out what's goin' on."

"Mary, the Whisperer I've been talking to, um…" Aaron says. "Told me where Alpha is keeping the herd."

"Where?" Adie demands.

"Just over the border, on their side," Aaron informs us. "It's this sunken field on the edge of the national forest."

"We can leave right after the funeral," Carol announces.

"We can?" Adie snaps, glaring at her. "I'm sorry, Aaron, did I miss the part where this skin bitch told you how to  _ take out _ a herd that size?"

"Mary," Aaron corrects, earning a withering look from the redhead.

"We're gonna trust a Whisperer now?" I demand.

"You wanna do nothing?" Carol fires back, eyes leaving Adie's to lock with mine.

"Lydia's still gone," I snap. "We don't even know what that means yet."

"Alpha doesn't know that," Aaron points out. "With Dante locked up in a cell, she never has to."

"Unless  _ Mary, _ " Adie says, rolling her eyes. "Is playin' you."

"We ain't gonna talk about how this is probably an ambush?" I question.

"Well, the baby that Connie rescued…" Aaron explains. "Uh, apparently that's Mary's nephew. She wants to see him."

"Then maybe she shouldn't've left him to die," Adie spits.

"I don't think she's lying," Aaron says firmly.

Adie still looks doubtful, but I trust Aaron's gut and I know she does, too, or she'd still be arguing.

"We make sure the herd's where she says it is first," she sighs. "Make sure she's not lyin' about that part."

"Alright," I concede. "Get a group from Hilltop, meet us there. Second we're done, we're goin' lookin' for the girl."

"Yeah," Aaron agrees, rising to leave. "I'll radio them. Maybe they can get the news to Michonne, too."

"Alright," I nod.

Carol's still staring at Adie like she don't recognize her or some shit, this weird mixture of guilt and anger on her face, but soon as Aaron starts for the door, she's trying to follow him.

"Hey," I blurt, Carol turning back questioningly. "Why don't you stay here?" I point to Adie, then myself. "We'll go."

"Why?"

"Because," Adie says flatly, rubbing her temples wearily. "We can't be lookin' for the horde  _ and  _ babysittin' you."

Carol looks stricken, but only for a second before she purses her lips and raises her hands.

"Go on," she murmurs. "Get it outta your system."

Adie's up so fast her chair legs shriek on the floor.

"Lydia's gone," she hisses, trembling. "Because of you. If Alpha finds out she's out there, that one of her people  _ knows…  _ she'll find her and kill her, and then that horde you wanna find so bad? Comes right for us,  _ all _ of it, right to our gates!"

"That bitch killed my son," Carol says quietly.

"Yeah, and gettin'  _ everyone else _ killed doesn't change that!" Adie hollers, the two women now damn near toe to toe. "You're lyin' to me, you're lyin' to  _ Daryl, _ and you're lyin' to yourself. We  _ all _ loved Henry! We loved Enid and, and Tara…" she trails off, losing steam, her body sagging under the weight of her own grief. "When we fight them, we have to  _ win. _ "

Carol don't say nothin', just stares stonily straight ahead until Adie leaves the room, and I ain't sure if I should go with her or stay here. It still don't feel right, the two of 'em at each other's throats like this. Feels worse than them not talking at all.

"You gonna tell me what really happened out there?" I question when Carol don't break the silence.

"I told you," she insists. "Lydia didn't want to come back. I couldn't make her."

"Her bein' here  _ protects _ us," I point out harshly. "You know that."

"So, that's it for her now?" She counters. "To be our shield? Just lock her up again?"

I just shoot her a look. She knows that ain't what this is about. She knows I care about the kid, Adie cares about her.

"I showed one of Alpha's people that their leader lied to them, and that's good for us," Carol snaps. "We can push on their wounds, too."

"You still should've told me."

"Why, so Adie could  _ stop _ me?"

"She ain't your enemy and you need to quit treatin' her like she is," I snarl, and that seems to get through to her at least a little bit.

"I'll help you look for her," she says finally. "But… I don't think she wants to be found."

"Are we talkin' 'bout her, or we talkin' 'bout you?" I demand.

She opens her mouth like she's gonna say something, then closes it like whatever she was gonna say ain't worth the air and leaves.

*Adrienne's POV*

"I remember this passage from my studies," Gabe says somberly, standing at the head of Siddiq's grave. "Written by a scholar centuries ago who was trying to understand the impossible… 'Let me live if life is better for me and take my life if death is better for me.' He had surrendered himself to fate because his world defied logic. Defied… justice."

I cling to Daryl's hand for dear life and he squeezes back just as hard.  _ Our _ world defies logic and justice. I can't help but watch Rosita, cradling her baby while her boyfriend delivers her baby's daddy's eulogy. I can't imagine how she's feeling right now. I hope she knows she's not alone, that if she ever needs anything for Coco, anything at all… we're family. We'll take care of each other, no matter what. A few folks from Hilltop journeyed our way for the funeral, Eugene and Ezekiel among them. Siddiq was well loved. His loss cannot be overstated.

"We created you from it…" Gabe continues, crouching beside the grave, collecting a handful of dirt and tossing it over the mound of earth concealing our dead friend. "And return you into it…" another handful of dirt. "And from it we will raise you a second time."

It strikes me as odd, a Christian priest reciting Muslim scripture, but it's touching. It's appropriate. I hope whatever version of paradise Siddiq believed awaited him after this life, he's there. I hope he's happy and I hope he knows we'll take care of Rosita and that his baby will grow up knowing who her daddy was. Rosita drops to her knees beside the grave, tossing her own fistful of dirt, and the crowd seems to just intuitively know it's time to leave. It's time to let her say her goodbyes. And, for me, Daryl, Carol, and Aaron, it's time to pack. We need to see if that horde is there, see if we can trust that Whisperer chick. There's just a couple other things I need to do first.

After blowing up at Carol in the kitchen, I'd radioed Eugene in the hopes he hadn't started for Alexandria yet. He hadn't. I told him in the most nonchalant way I could manage that I needed him to bring me something from the closet in Maggie's old office. He said he'd see what he could do, then said some shit about  _ Tater Bug signin' off,  _ which I didn't bother to respond to because what in the hell did he give himself a nickname like that for?

"Tater Bug," I hiss, motioning for Eugene to follow me around to the back of the mess hall.

If that's what he's calling himself, far be it from me to stop him.

"Did you find it?" I question when he reaches me, glancing around warily in case he was followed.

"Affirmative," he mutters, dropping his pack into the dirt, crouching down and unzipping the largest pocket. "And while I do not find it offensive, Tater Bug's more of a gamer tag meets the open air kinda deal than a use in casual oral correspondence-"

"Eugene!" I whisper sharply.

"Sorry."

He gets back to his feet, coming up with Maggie's body armor clutched in his hands. Earl had forged it for her when she was expecting baby Hershel. I figure she won't mind. I had a similar set that belonged to one of the Kingdom's fighters, but I lost track of where the hell it went some time during the move from Alexandria to the Sanctuary. It's just a precaution. Just in case. That's what I'm telling myself, anyway. I can't remember the last time I had a period, the days and weeks all seem to blend together, but it's been a good month or two or maybe even longer.

"Thanks," I breathe, taking the armor and holding it flat against my torso like a schoolgirl's stack of textbooks.

"May I inquire-"

"Nope."

I scurry off towards the house before he can ask. I wanna keep this quiet and everyone knows Eugene's got a big yap. If you wanna keep something on the DL, you don't tell Eugene, Jerry, or RJ. Them's the rules. I duck inside and tear down the stairs, nearly sprinting headlong into Daryl at the bottom. Shit.

"Hell's this for?" He demands, taking the armor from my hands and examining it in the light.

I cross my arms protectively in front of me. He's not supposed to be here right now. He's supposed to be getting a med kit together or gassing up the bike or giving RJ the customary be good for the babysitter speech.

"Adie," he drapes the armor over the arm of the sofa, then tucks one hand under my chin, gently forcing my eyes to his. "You got sum'n you need to tell me?"

"It's just… it's just in case," I murmur, pulling away from him and retrieving the pregnancy test I'd swiped at the infirmary earlier from where I'd stashed it in my waistband.

He looks at the slim, purple box in my hand like it's the most alien thing he's ever seen. I'd probably find it funny if I wasn't so damn nervous.

"You want me to leave?" He questions finally, lifting his eyes to mine.

"You can stay," I shake my head, tearing the box open and pulling one of the tests from within. "If you want. You don't have to. I can pee on a stick all by myself if it… if it's weird."

He just scoffs.

"Pissin' on a stick ain't the weirdest thing I've seen you do."

And he stays.

*Daryl's POV*

"We ain't got all day."

Adie disappeared behind the curtain we'd hung around the toilet down here to make it look less like… well, a toilet just sitting in the corner of our basement almost ten minutes ago and ain't pissed yet. She seems surprised I stayed, that I wanna know the same time she knows. Maybe it's bad timing, especially now, but I feel calm. She's so damn nervous she's about ready to crawl out of her skin, but I'm not. I know I probably should be.

"I have a shy bladder!"

No sooner than the words leave her lips, she's peeing. Apparently her shy bladder's also a spiteful bladder, don't like being called shy. The toilet flushes and she emerges a second later, dropping down on the couch beside me, test in hand. I snatch it, turning it around and around in my fingers.

"It ain't doin' nothin'."

"It will."

After another minute or so of nothing changing, I'm getting a little anxious.

"How long does this shit take?" I gripe, glaring at the little result window.

"Three minutes," Adie murmurs.

"This why you were takin' a walk 'fore the asscrack of dawn?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you say nothin'?"

"I didn't want…" she sighs, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "I didn't want you to worry."

"When were you gon' tell me?"

Her eyes fill with tears and I quickly set the stick down on the coffee table, pulling her into my arms.

"I don't know," she says quietly, burrowing into my side. "I wasn't… I wasn't tryin' to hide it 'cause I was never gonna tell you, I was gonna say somethin' if… but I just didn't…" she pulls away, her teary eyes locking with mine. "What if I can't… what if the same thing happens?"

"Well, we'll handle it," I murmur, cupping her face in my hands and stroking her tear-stained cheeks. "We'll be alright."

"I don't…" she hiccups, then laughs at herself before turning serious again. "I don't want everybody to know. If this… if this is happenin'."

I just nod. I ain't gonna argue. I remember how hard it was for her the first time, when she lost… everybody knew she was pregnant but not everybody knew when she wasn't, not right away, and every time some well-meaning asshole asked how she was feeling, how her pregnancy was treating her, like it's some kind of sickness… those were hard times. Explaining over and over she wasn't pregnant anymore, and then they'd all look at her with these sad, guilty faces and she hated it. She hates being pitied, always has. I ain't gonna tell nobody.

"Okay," she says heavily, sniffling, wiping her eyes and reaching for the test.

She holds the stick with one hand, my hand with the other, and we lean over the test, and there it is, clear as day. I ain't sure I was expecting this to go one way or the other, but the first thing I feel is shock, my stomach doing some kinda barrel roll across my gut. I hazard a glance at Adie and she's smiling, tears running down her face again, shaking her head and she looks so fucking beautiful. I grab hold of her, both hands on the sides of her face, and pull her mouth to mine, and her lips are curving into a grin and then she's laughing and I'm laughing and even through the uncertainty, I know however this ends we're gonna be okay.

"Congratulations, Mr. Dixon."


	25. Claustrophobic

**Chapter 25**

*Adrienne's POV*

"You ain't goin'," Daryl blurts when he finally takes his eyes off the tiny little plus sign.

He says it like he knows it's a fight he's already lost and I can't help but scoff a little.

"Come on," I chuckle. "We're not fightin' 'em, we're just doin' a little fact checkin'. This is, this is… we're goin' on a  _ walk,  _ Daryl."

He just rolls his eyes and helps me into Maggie's body armor, tightening the straps securely at my sides. Aaron and Carol eye my getup suspiciously when Daryl and I meet them at the stables, but thankfully neither of them question it and ten minutes later, we're speeding out the gates. Jerry's supposed to get a group together and meet us at what used to be the wildlife center for the national forest but is now just an empty ranger station. There's a selfish part of me that wishes it was a little further away so I could spend that much more time on the back of the bike, with my arms around Daryl and the wind whipping through my hair, but we've reached our destination within an hour. We dismount, Daryl and I from the bike and Carol and Aaron from their horses, and before my ears have adjusted to the loud silence the cut engine left in its wake, Jerry, Connie, Kelly, and Magna are emerging from the trees.

"Hey," Daryl greets them, moving in to accept a hug from Connie.

"Hey, D," Jerry nods, making a beeline for Carol and pulling her into his arms. "Good to see you."

"You too," Carol murmurs.

He releases her and gathers me into a bone crushing embrace.

"Can't breathe, Jer," I chuckle, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"How's Rosita?" He questions, his face falling.

"As expected," Carol sighs.

"Let's get to it," Magna suggests gruffly. "Fuck these freaks. I say that in Siddiq's honor."

She pulls ahead, falling into step with Connie, Kelly, and Daryl at the head of the group, leaving me, Jerry, Aaron, and Carol to bring up the rear.

"So," Jerry says conspiratorially, gently jostling my elbow with his. "What's with the battle gear? You and Daryl finally bunned up?"

I can feel Carol and Aaron's eyes on me, a flush crawling up my neck and onto my cheeks.

"I just feel safer," I mutter, dropping my gaze to the ground. "That's all."

Nobody buys it, but at least they're not prying. So much for keeping shit secret.

*Daryl's POV*

"Thanks for helpin'," I murmur, patting Connie on the back.

I ain't sure what it is about her, but I just trust her. She's easy to be around and even though she's still newer to our group, she's family. She's got our back. She smiles and pulls her notepad out of her bag, flipping to a page she'd already written on.

ANYTHING

FOR

US.

Us. It's comforting to know she sees it that way. Magna don't and I ain't sure where Kelly stands now, either, but it's good to know at least one of 'em views us all as a team. Darkness falls quick while we make our way through the forest, the silence only broken every so often by Jerry and Adie's hushed giggles at whatever the other is saying. Jerry, for whatever reason, is more than a little amused by the word 'conifer'. It's nice, though, hearing them laugh. It's nice knowing we ain't too jaded to laugh at stupid shit. By the time we reach the pikes marking the border, Carol and me are at the back of the group, watching as Adie squares her shoulders and marches forward, followed closely by Magna and Connie. Carol stops just beyond the border though, drawing her bow at some unseen enemy in the trees. She ain't watching her feet, though.

"Hey, wait," I blurt, rushing forward before she steps right into the trap on the ground. "Could've lost a foot."

"They laid traps," she murmurs, seemingly unconcerned at her failure to see the trap on her own. "Means we're getting closer," she jerks her chin at the section of trees she'd been headed towards. "I saw something over there."

"Will you stop this shit?" I demand, and she eyes me, stricken. "Please. You want her dead so bad, you don't even care what happens to you."

"That's not true," she protests.

"You never came off that boat," I accuse. "It's been like talkin' to a goddamn ghost."

"I'm doing the best I can."

She should know we've been through too much shit together for me to buy that. It's time for her to talk about it, and not about Alpha. About  _ her.  _ About Henry. If she don't start healing, she never will. She's gonna get herself or somebody else we love killed and she'd never forgive herself if that happens.

" _ I'm  _ the one you tell," I say fervently, pointing at my chest. "Me."

"I don't…" she blinks back tears. "I don't know how."

"You gotta try, alright?" I murmur, reaching for her. "Come here."

I wrap my arms around her and she sags against me and it's like I can feel every fucking ounce of exhaustion in her weight. I just hold on to her, stroking her hair.

"She's not worth it," I whisper. "She's not. Look at me," she pulls away, sniffling, not bothering to hide her tears or will them away this time. "She's a dead woman, anyway. We have a  _ future.  _ Don't let her take that, too."

She nods and I thumb away the tear slipping down her cheek.

"Yes," she breathes.

"You good?"

"Yeah," she nods, and this time I think she means it.

When I lost Beth, she told me she knew me. She knew I had to feel it, that she couldn't let herself, but I had to. It ain't true. She needs to feel it so she can let go. I ain't gonna let her take herself down.

"Alright," I murmur, turning to find a piece of wood big enough to set off the trap so no other poor bastard gets stuck. "I'll get this."

I wait until Carol starts moving, catching up to Adie and the others, before slamming the stick down onto the pan. The vicious metal jaws snap shut around it, nearly splintering it in two, and I look back up just in time to see Carol jam her knife into a walker's skull. Guess she saw something out here after all.

-

It took all goddamn night, but we're finally at the spot just as the sun crests the horizon. Adie looks dead on her feet, having not slept in going on a full two days, and I'm thinking I need to find some kind of shelter so we can all get some rest before heading home. Only problem is, I don't hear 'em. Thousands of walkers should be making noise for miles around, but I don't hear nothin'. My suspicions are confirmed when Adie, who despite her lack of sleep is  _ still _ faster on her feet than anybody, peers over the edge of the cliff into the field below, then turns and stalks back the way we came, bypassing Aaron without a word.

"God damn it!" I bark, tearing my angry gaze from the empty field to glare at Aaron before following in Adie's footsteps.

"Wait," Aaron blurts.

"For what?" I demand, whirling around to glare at him some more.

"This doesn't mean Mary lied to us," he insists. "Alright? They were protecting this place. They, they put a  _ trap  _ in the road as a deterrent."

"Yeah, from some hunter a decade ago," I spit.

"No, that thing was rigged more recently than that and you know it."

"Son of a bitch!"

Adie's irate hiss reaches us from where she stands, yards away, sinking her blade into one walker as another shambles towards her.

"You wanna stand around and figure it out?" I snap, turning back to Aaron after Adie's put down both walkers.

Shit. The longer we're here, the more bodies we leave behind, the more tracks, everything… they'll know we were here. I'm done wasting time.

"Look, the herd could've been here last week or yesterday," Aaron blusters. "We had an obligation to come check this out."

"Nah," I mutter, turning away. "It's time to find Lydia. Let's go."

*Adrienne's POV*

"Lydia would've taken this river downstream," Daryl announces. "Back to our side."

I'd like to believe he's right, but after what Carol did to her, used her, manipulated her… why the hell would she come back? Still, if we can pick up a trail, we'll find her. We will. Everyone but Carol seems to have come to the same conclusion. She's still standing, turned facing upstream, staring off into nothing.

"Hey!" Daryl hollers. "Carol, let's go."

"You go on," she murmurs distractedly. "I'll meet you."

"Are you fuc-"

"Nope," Daryl cuts me off, placing a soothing hand on my shoulder before I can express my extreme displeasure. "We all stay together."

But she's not listening, she's inching her way further and further from us. She pauses at the edge of a clearing adjacent to the thicket of trees where we're currently standing and, before anyone can say anything else at all, she breaks into a run. I sprint after her, ready to physically restrain her if I need to, and she speeds up.

"Hey!" Daryl shouts, he and the others right behind me. "Carol!"

Whatever the hell she's chasing's got her running like her fucking feet are on fire, but I'm still faster. She can't outrun me. I hurtle through the trees, not slowing even when I see the dry stretch of ditch where the river's been dammed up. It's been at least 20 years since I last heard her voice, but Coach Simms is in my head like it's track and field again and I'm running circles around a green and white track, leaping over hurdles.

_ Get a move on, Blake! Hustle, hustle! You waitin' on an engraved invitation? Let's go! _

Damn, and she's still pushy. Guess that's why she was a good coach. I reach the banks just as Carol's running up the other side and I know this is my shot. I leap over the riverbed and, before I have a chance to be impressed with myself, my body slams into Carol's and the two of us tumble to the ground.

"Let me go!" She cries, struggling beneath my weight.

"No!" I hiss. "Stop it! Before you get yourself-"

Whatever I was gonna say never makes it past my lips. Carol's elbow smacks me right in the jaw, stunning me, and she scrambles to her feet, disappearing into an old mining shaft just beyond the tree line. She  _ hit  _ me. I clamber my way upright and tear after her. I barely have time to register the tell-tale growls before the ground disappears beneath my feet.

*Daryl's POV*

I reach the riverbank just in time to see Carol vanish into a mining shaft on the other side, Adie on her heels. Ain't got time to worry about that just yet though, all the commotion's drawn walkers down on us. I can handle 'em, though. I snatch both knives from my belt.

"Go!" I snarl, the others surging forward to help dispatch the dead. "Get her ass outta there!"

They listen, running down the banks and up the other side, leaving me to deal with the last two walkers. It ain't nothin' I can't handle, they only got maybe a ten second lead on me, disappearing single file into the shaft. I haul ass after 'em, plunging into the dark and immediately wishing I'd thought to bring a light. I make my way slowly, winding down into the dark, wondering why the hell I can't hear any of 'em. I can hear something, though.

"Adie!" I hiss.

"Daryl, don't!"

Adie's warning comes a second too late. There's a steep drop, dirt giving way to stone, and I stumble, toppling over and falling the rest of the way down into the cave, landing hard on my side.

"Daryl!" Adie breathes, crouching over me, brushing my hair back from my eyes, checking me for injuries.

I'm fine, though. I mean, not fine, I'm significantly more stressed than I was thirty seconds ago, but other than what's sure to be some gnarly ass bruises, I'm okay. She's bleeding, though, from a nick just above her eyebrow, and a swollen cut splitting the skin on her bottom lip. Still, she pulls me to my feet and she ain't moving like there's anything else wrong with her. The fear in her eyes, though… I glance around, realizing the roar in my ears ain't blood, and it ain't my thundering heartbeat neither.

We've found the horde.

*Adrienne's POV*

Daryl doesn't lie. He doesn't exaggerate. He calls things exactly like he sees them. He said there were thousands of these things. He  _ said  _ it. I shouldn't be shocked. It shouldn't send terror rocketing through my bones. It shouldn't.

"Uh…" Jerry huffs. "Hey, guys?"

We all turn to see what the hell now, following his gaze up to the ledge from which we'd fallen. Alpha. Carol wasn't chasing a ghost. Not this time. Alpha led her here knowing we'd follow. We're trapped. The sound that leaves Carol's throat as she stares up at the woman is almost inhuman, something between a shriek and a howl, her desperate rage echoing long after Alpha turns to leave.

"Alright," I grab my blade from where it had clattered to the ground, using it like a pointer while I holler orders. "Connie, Kelly, Aaron, weapons out, keep 'em from climbin' up here," I turn to Daryl. "If we can get somebody up there, one or two of us can run for help. Hilltop's closest."

"I'll go," Magna volunteers. "Gimme a boost."

Jerry and Daryl get to it and I turn away, stalking past Carol to help the others keep the walkers at bay. How many times? How many times is it gonna take almost getting people killed before she stops? Or is it gonna take burying one of us to get through to her? After Magna falls to the ground a third time, Daryl's decided to call it. We gotta find another way.

"I almost had it," she insists.

"Nah, it's too high," he argues. "You risk breakin' your neck. We need to find a better way."

He pulls a flashlight out of my pack and clicks it on, beam arcing around the cave and settling on a small trickle of water running down the wall on the other side of the pit.

"You got something?" Aaron questions hopefully.

"Groundwater's deeper in here," Daryl points out. "That water's comin' from outside."

"I don't see a way across," Carol cries.

"Woah, woah, go back, go back," Aaron urges, Daryl's light finding a row of tall, flat-topped rocks protruding from the floor. "We could use those to jump across."

"Nice," Daryl nods.

"Wait, for real?" Kelly asks, stricken.

She'd sprained her ankle something fierce during the fall, there's no way in hell…

"What, we're gonna play  _ leapfrog _ with the walkers?" I demand, eyeing the roving corpses below.

"You see a better option?" Aaron counters.

"You'll be fine," Carol says pointedly. "Just pretend it's a riverbed."

"Are we doin' this now?" I hiss. "I knocked you over, you hit me in the face, we're square."

"All right," Daryl mutters, clicking off his light and exchanging it for his knives. "You ready? Let's go."

This is insane. It's fucking batshit. Daryl glances over at me, nodding once, then leaps across the pit, landing atop one of the rocks. He pitches forward precariously but quickly regains his balance and I can breathe again. These rocks are tall enough, the walkers can't quite reach if we're standing in the middle. We've just gotta be quick, that's all.

"Come on," Daryl encourages, crooking a finger at Carol. "Let's go."

He hops to the next rock and Carol follows in his path. Magna's the next to go, then Jerry, and by the time he clears the first jump, Daryl's made it to the other side. Connie and Kelly are signing back and forth and Kelly swears she's good to go. Still, Connie makes the leap first, urging her sister to step where she steps. The walkers are getting more and more restless, though, all of us sailing over their heads like steaks dangled over a dog's nose.

"Do it now!" Aaron orders, prompting Kelly to panic jump before she's entirely ready.

She lands hard on her stomach, arms and legs hanging over the edges of the rock.

"No, hey!" I roar. "Hey, hey, hey! Come on!"

"Over here! Hey!"

Aaron and I are shrieking, jumping around and waving our arms like lunatics, desperately trying to draw the walkers away from the rock. It's only kind of working, but kind of is gonna have to be enough.

*Daryl's POV*

I should've known Adie would be one of the last to come across, but it still bothers me she ain't close. It bothers me more when she and Aaron start screaming and yelling, his light flashing wildly while her shrill whistle cuts through the air. Kelly fell, but she's back up. She's okay. I turn my attention back to Carol, who's staring uncertainly at the gap between her rock and the ledge where I'm standing.

"Come on," I urge. "I gotcha."

She jumps but don't quite land even, slipping down towards the walkers below. I said I'd get her though, and I do. I pull her up, holding her tight to me. I got her. I glance across the pit at Adie, willing her to fucking move.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Go!" Aaron hollers, nudging me forward.

"No, I'm not leavin' you," I protest.

"Damn it, Adie, now!"

He's leaving no room for argument and I don't have time to waste being stubborn, not now. I bounce on the balls of my feet a couple times, then hurl myself over the chasm, landing about as gracefully as one under the threat of imminent death could possibly be expected to. I hop to the next rock and turn just in time to see Aaron make the jump.

*Daryl's POV*

Adie and Aaron are finally making their way over here, the only two left still crossing. Adie, predictably, is having no trouble at all leaping from rock to rock like she's part fucking mountain goat or some shit, and Aaron's right behind her. Seems the worst of it's over, at least until a walker latches onto Kelly's boot, trying to drag her down from the ledge. Jerry's quick, though, bringing his sword down and slicing the arm clean off. The gnarled, decayed fingers are still closed around Kelly's ankle. It's sick, but…

"Hey, hand me that thing."

"Knock yourself out, dude," Jerry says, disgusted, handing me the arm.

"Think you could lend me a hand?" Adie questions breathlessly, leaping across the gap and landing beside me with a thud. "Since you got an extra?"

She's fucking joking. I know it's a coping thing. She told me once she laughs so she don't cry. Still, if I die and the last joke I heard was a goddamn pun…

*Adrienne's POV*

Daryl's using the arm like a torch. It's genius, offering light that doesn't eat up battery life, but the smell is making my stomach roll. Just when you think rotting flesh couldn't smell worse, somebody goes and lights it on fire. I don't know what I expected a mine to be like, but the caves twist and turn every which way, no logic or organization to the place at all.

"Alright," Daryl says, stopping abruptly, whirling around and passing the torch off to me. "I need you to stay here, all right? Keep everyone together."

He doesn't give me time to argue or ask where the hell he's going, striking a match and disappearing around a bend in the tunnel, and I  _ wanted _ to argue… but I trust him enough to let him go. He knows what he's doing.

"Should I even ask how we're doin' on food?" Aaron wonders aloud.

"Not great," Jerry shakes his head.

"Food?" Kelly demands, horrified. "How long do you think we gon' be here?"

"Hey, no worries," Jerry soothes. "Walkers got in here somehow. We'll get out."

"I think we know exactly how they got here," Aaron points out. "Alpha put them here. These are theirs."

"And they know we're here," I sigh, catching on.

"We have to assume we're not alone," Aaron nods.

My eyes are drawn to movement in my periphery and I tense up, ready to fight, but it's just Connie. She throws up an OK sign, questioning eyes on Carol, who has her back pressed flat against the wall, chest heaving.

"I'm fine," she says breathlessly. "Just… a little winded."

"She's claustrophobic," Daryl's disembodied voice echoes from wherever the hell he wound up in his search for wind.

I'd all but forgotten. I've only ever heard her mention it once. Jesus, it feels like lifetimes ago.

_ Are we underground? _

_ Are you claustrophobic? _

_ A little. _

_ Try not to think about it. _

"Why didn't you think of that before you got us all trapped down here?" Magna demands.

I get it. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't more than a little pissed, too. Fighting and pointing fingers though, no matter how justified, doesn't get us jack shit.

"Hey," Aaron warns. "It's not the time for this."

"Why not?" Magna simpers, shrugging. "Seems like we have plenty of it."

She takes a step towards Carol and I shift my weight, ready to run interference if I have to. 

"What the hell were you thinking, huh? Running off like that by yourself."

She takes another step and I insert myself between the two women.

"Back up," I hiss. "Right now."

"Why are you defending her?" Magna snaps glaring over my shoulder at Carol.

"I'm not," I fire back. "But this conversation can wait 'til we're above ground. Quit usin' up all your energy runnin' your mouth."

"Hey!" Daryl barks, returning to the group. "We ain't got time for this shit. We got into this mess together and we're gonna get out of it together, now follow me. I think I found a way out."

*Daryl's POV*

I thought we were getting closer to an exit, but the tunnel I found just leads to a bigger tunnel, wind whistling through the cavern like it's laughing at us for being fool enough to hope. We've all just kinda collapsed where we stood. Aaron and Adie figure our best bet at this point is to just wait for the Whisperers to come to us, pick 'em off when they get here, follow the ones who run. Adie's nestled into my side, her head tucked up under my chin, and she shouldn't fucking  _ be _ here. I should've tried harder to get her to stay home. If we don't make it out…

"Some walk, huh?" I murmur into her hair and she snorts, tilting her face up so she can look at me.

"You know nothin' you'd've said would've made me stay, right?" She questions softly, pushing the hair from my eyes. "Even now. We're gonna get outta here. We have a plan. We have  _ us. _ It's gonna be okay."

I still ain't convinced, not entirely, but before I can say so, Magna's marching our way.

"Hey, can I-" she pauses, catching her breath. "Can I have your matches?"

"You should try to take it easy for a minute," I mutter.

"I can't," she counters. "I need to do somethin'."

Adie shifts away from me so I can dig the little metal match tin from my pocket, settling back in after Magna snatches it and takes off.

"Thanks."

Adie watches her go, understanding blossoming on her face. It's momentary. She spots Carol coming our way and stiffens.

"I'm gonna check on somethin'," she blurts, pressing her lips to mine before scrambling upright and scurrying past Carol, joining Aaron and Jerry in their chosen corner of this shithole.

Carol sinks down beside me, both our eyes on the redhead across the way, now marveling at the spikeball Aaron's attached to his prosthetic arm.

"She hates me," Carol says eventually.

"She's pissed at you," I correct. "She don't hate you. If she did, she wouldn't be here."

Carol lets that one go and I ain't sure it's 'cause she's too tired to argue or 'cause she knows I'm right. Maybe it's a little of both.

"I never told you I was claustrophobic."

"If I only knew what you told me, I wouldn't know shit."

That ain't true exactly. She said she was claustrophobic at the CDC. Guess she don't remember how far back we go. Adie ain't the only one pissed off.

"Look who's talkin'," she counters.

"It's like I can't even turn my back on you anymore," I mutter. "It's bad enough I got Aaron runnin' around with that skin freak. Now I gotta worry about you all half-cocked every time you go outside."

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"I  _ begged  _ you to talk to me."

She don't say nothin'. She ain't even looking at me and it pisses me off so bad 'cause it  _ hurts.  _ It's like she don't trust me no more. I don't know how the hell to help her if she don't talk to me. She's my best friend.

"I wanna be there for you," I tell her firmly, her head whipping up in disbelief. "I do," I shrug, at a loss. "I don't know what to do anymore."

"I can't stop thinking about it," she admits quietly. "I know I have to, but I can't," she sighs heavily, tears welling in her eyes. "Oh, god… I don't wanna just kill Alpha… I wanna  _ hurt  _ her. I wanna make her regret everything, I want her to  _ beg  _ for forgiveness, and  _ then  _ I wanna kill her."

"If I went through all the shit that you went through…" I murmur. "I'd probably feel the same way. Unless _you_ or," I nod in Adie's direction. "Or that girl over there tried to stop me. You gotta quit all this. You gotta. People you care about are starting to get hurt."

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen," she shakes her head, but it's just more excuses. "I know I have to… I… I know I have to st-"

"You gotta not bullshit me," I cut her off and she raises her watery eyes to mine. "Don't bullshit me. You gotta  _ promise. _ I gotta know we're on the same team. I… I got a kid on the way." 

Her eyes widen, her face immediately awash with guilt for putting Adie at risk. I know Adie don't want nobody to know, not yet, but it just slipped out. I'm desperately trying to get through to Carol before it's too late. Reminds me of all them times Merle promised he'd get clean, get his shit together… he never, ever did. Didn't stop me hoping, though. Me and Adie, we got a baby coming into the world. We have a  _ future. _ We all gotta quit letting whatever bullshit happened yesterday fuck up tomorrow. We owe it to ourselves.

"We fight for our future," I continue. "We don't fight for revenge."

"I promise," Carol nods, tearing her gaze from Adie to look right into my eyes.

She wipes her tears away and I hope to hell she really, truly means it this time. I still got faith in her.

"Alright."

*Adrienne's POV*

  
  


"What is that, her fifth match?" Aaron mutters, eyes tracking Magna's movements about the cave.

"Yup," I sigh, crossing my arms and slouching down against the wall. "I'd tell her to go easy but I'm afraid she'd just light another one out of spite."

"You don't like her."

It's not a question. It's a statement, an observation. I lock eyes with Aaron, trying to put together a civil response.

"I… she's not my favorite person in the world," I concede.

"How diplomatic of you to put it that way," he chuckles.

"Well, we're kinda stuck with each other," I point out. "For the time bein'."

"She reminds me of you, you know," he murmurs. "A little. The way you were when we met, I mean. You didn't trust new people very easily, either."

"I trusted you."

"You didn't have a choice."

"Sure we did," I shrug. "We could've just killed you."

"Okay, fine," he sighs, shaking his head disparagingly. "Fine. You never had trust issues, then. What about loyalty?"

"What about it?"

"It's just… something you have in common," I glare at him, but he pushes on anyway. "You're both…  _ fiercely  _ loyal to the ones you love."

"Aaron?"

"Yeah?"

"You're startin' to sound like a Hallmark Christmas special."

He frowns, then breaks into a fit of giggles that echo through the stale air around us.

"What's so funny, Chuckles?" I demand, grinning despite myself.

"You watched the Hallmark Christmas specials?" He questions, wheezing, Jerry's laughter joining his. 

"Maybe," I shrug defensively. "So what if I did?"

"You're an atheist!"

"Well, what, and you think people who don't believe in God can't feel the warmth of the holiday season?" I laugh, gently elbowing him in the ribs. "Stand around a burnin' nativity and, and sacrifice  _ puppies _ or some shit? Come on, now."

Aaron opens his mouth to respond, but before any words come out…

"Skins!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I was a little bit self-indulgent with Adie's physical capabilities in this chapter, but I stand by it damn it! All I'm gonna say is the current world record long jump distance is 8.5 meters, which is roughly 29 feet, so Adie leaping over a dried up riverbed to tangle with Carol really isn't that big a stretch, right? Right? Hahaha, okay maybe it is.


	26. Do You Trust Me?

**Chapter 26**

Magna's voice shatters the air and chaos erupts. I leap to my feet, knives in hand, and hurtle into the tunnel after my friends. Whisperers, I can't tell how many, are dropping from the ceiling, emerging from cracks in the walls and jumping down from the tops of rocks we'd thought too high to climb. It's dark, it's too dark to see what the hell we're doing. Somebody's gonna get hurt. Better make sure it's none of mine. I hurl myself at the Whisperer on Kelly's six, plunging my blade into the base of his skull, thrusting upwards before retracting the knife and letting the body drop. Kelly nods her thanks and we join the others, all of us fighting until the last freak falls. At least, I think so until I catch sight of one more skulking towards one of the tunnels, stepping over the flaming arm torch I'd last seen in Daryl's hand.

My heart plummets, already preparing for the worst. I line up my shot and fling my knife, sending it spinning through the air, and tear after it, reaching the freak just after my blade lands lodged between her spine and shoulder blade. I grab hold of her with one hand, yanking my knife out of her back and quickly drawing it across her jugular, slitting her throat. She drops and Daryl's right there, another body at his feet, and he's just fine.

"Oh, thank god," I sob with relief, hurling myself into his arms just as Connie and Kelly catch up to us.

"Let's go," he orders, taking the torch from Connie in one hand and my hand in the other.

The four of us sprint deeper into the tunnel after the shadows of a couple escaping Whisperers, following the narrow path until it suddenly breaks open, letting us out into another large cavern, the rest of the group spilling in from the adjacent tunnels. We all come to an abrupt halt, breathless. The only way forward I can see is gonna lead us into pitch dark. Connie starts signing frantically, so fast I only pick up the words  _ together, dark,  _ and  _ split _ .

"If we don't follow each other in the dark, we're gonna get split up," Kelly translates, eyeing Daryl warily as he inches forward, squinting into the void.

"She's right," Carol agrees, stopping Daryl in his tracks. "We stick together."

"At least we know there's a way out now," Aaron pipes up.

"Yeah, but which way?" I question, peering into the darkness ahead.

"Uh, I think they went this way," Jerry points.

"You see where they went?" Daryl asks, whirling around with the torch.

"Not exactly, but…" Jerry trails off, shining his light on an arrow etched into the stone beside him. "I know a road sign when I see one."

Daryl strides forward, leading the way. I'm right on his heels, really starting to miss the days he and I took the rear in these situations, back when Rick was the one to forge ahead. I know it's selfish. I know I should feel proud that he's always the one to risk his own neck before anyone else's, and I  _ do,  _ it's just… I don't want our baby growing up without their dad. I don't wanna do it without him, I don't… I don't know how.

*Daryl's POV*

  
  


When I get Adie outta here, we're going straight the fuck home. Well, maybe we'll stop by Hilltop, get our strength back up, rest some. But after that, we're going straight the fuck home and she ain't doing nothin' more strenuous than... I dunno, maybe she could take up knitting or some shit, but I ain't gonna have her out here running around no more. I'll find Lydia, I'll figure out a way to win this war, I'll make it safe again. Safe as it ever is. Safer. 

That's what I'm gonna tell myself, anyway. That she'll be content to stay home, away from the Whisperers and the walkers and the fights. I know she won't. She'll do what needs doing herself, 'cause in her mind, if something goes wrong and she ain't there to try and stop it, whatever thing went wrong is somehow her fault. She thinks it's all on her. She'll be 8 months pregnant, rounder than a goddamn beach ball, and she'll still wanna be out doing runs or scouting or some shit and how the fuck am I gonna fit her on the bike then? I shake my head, forcing myself to focus. This is all shit to deal with later. Right now I just gotta get us outta here. Just gotta figure out which way… oh, shit. Carol ain't gonna like this at all.

"Hey," I blurt, waving everybody forward to assemble around a crack in the wall. "Come on."

I ain't sure if it's just wishful thinking, but I swear I can feel a draft. It's narrow, but we can get through sideways. I think. I toss the arm torch aside. It's too bulky. Magna's still got the matches, but she strikes one and passes it to me, seemingly realizing the need before I gotta say it. Maybe she knows how to work with a team after all. I lean into the tunnel, holding the match aloft, watching the flame flicker and bend. This is it. This is our way out.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Oh, god…" Carol mutters, her breath coming in quick pants as Daryl slips into the wall tunnel to investigate.

She's terrified. I soften just a little bit, moving to stand beside her. I still don't think I'm ready to forgive her. I'm still too angry, particularly about the ache in my jaw courtesy of her elbow. But I don't wanna see her suffering, either.

"This is it!" Daryl hisses from within the tunnel.

"You wanna go first?" Magna questions, arching an eyebrow at me.

"No, you go on," I nod, waving her off.

"Suit yourself."

She disappears into the wall, Kelly right behind her.

"Carol?" I murmur. "Carol, we gotta go."

"Oh, god," she heaves, closing her eyes like she can just will it all away. "Alright, just give me one minute. I'll be fine."

Connie sidles up beside us, eyeing Carol dubiously.

"Or not," Carol admits, gasping. "Ooh, boy."

Connie takes Carol's hand in hers, holding the other woman's palm open towards her.

_ Close your eyes, _ she signs.

Carol obeys, clutching one of my hands in her free one while Connie traces letters through her glove onto her palm.

"You are…" Carol breathes, eyes squeezed shut tight. "Are…" her breathing slows, vice grip on my hand loosening just the slightest bit. "Oh… K." Connie finishes her message, clasping her steady hands around Carol's trembling one. "You are… You are okay."

Her eyes flutter open and she gazes at the woman in front of her in disbelief. Connie just smiles softly, gives me a nod, and disappears into the wall after the others. I squeeze Carol's hand, leading her towards the tunnel. She's steadier than she was, calmer, but she still hesitates in front of the crack in the wall.

"Hey…" I soothe, taking both her hands in mine. "Do you trust me?" She nods without hesitation. "We're gonna go in together, alright? I'm right behind you all the way."

She nods again, taking a lantern from Jerry and stepping into the chasm. I follow close behind, the two of us turning and sidestepping our way along the rapidly narrowing path. Aaron's behind me, Jerry bringing up the rear, and Carol's doing just fine right up until we reach the widest part of the tunnel. It's like a cruel trick, like the eye of the storm, because this stretch of tunnel makes up for its wideness with a ceiling that becomes gradually lower the further along we are.

"All the way, right?" I remind Carol as the two of us sink to our knees, crawling along on our bellies.

Maybe it's silly to even be thinking about this now, but it reminds me of Aladdin's failed escape from the Cave of Wonders, when Genie had to help him out, and I can't help but snort at the idea of a blue Daryl bursting forth from an oil lamp to bust us out of here.

"Hey," Aaron hisses from somewhere near my left foot. "You alright back there?"

"Yeah," Jerry pants. "Sure. I'm just a six foot two dude that had trouble fitting into airplane bathrooms. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"Jer," I grunt, dragging myself along with my elbows and hips as the tunnel starts to incline. "This really the best time to talk about the time you joined the Mile High club?"

It's quiet for a moment, beyond the grunts and groans of our exertion, but then Jerry's deep, breathless chuckle echoes in the tiny space around us, the man laughing despite himself. It was a stupid joke, but whatever. It diffused some of the tension, if nothing else. None of this is fun, but if we're gonna die down here at least we don't have to be completely miserable.

*Daryl's POV*

I don't know what the fuck the mile high club means, but at least Jerry's laughing. I didn't start worrying about it until the tunnel shrunk so small I can barely fit through, but he's a big dude. What the hell are we gonna do if he don't fit? Send him back down there alone, promise we'll be back? Nah, he's gotta get through. I can see the end now, this is the final stretch. I manage to pull myself through, wriggling until the upper half of my body is free. Crawling through the tunnel got me all turned around though, and it's disconcerting as fuck when I tumble sideways out of the hole in the rock. I get to my feet, somewhat grateful I'm first and nobody else saw me fall on my ass, and shine my light into the opening.

"Alright," I announce, panting. "I'm out. Follow my voice."

Magna's a little further behind than I thought. I can't see her yet, but I can hear her and Kelly struggling to get through the tight space just before the tunnel bends into the opening.

"Come on," I urge. "Follow my voice. Come on."

I can see 'em both now, emerging from the darkness, squinting into the light. 

"That's it," I reach for Magna's hand, pulling her out. "Alright. Alright."

Kelly's pushing through on her elbows, lantern in one hand and a small pickaxe in the other.

"Alright, a little further," I murmur, reaching for the pickaxe. "Come on."

I take the tool from her hands and she slides forward out of the hole and into the dirt, face first.

"You got it?"

"I'm good," she assures me, allowing Magna to help her up while I pull Connie from the wall.

Carol's right behind her and she ain't doing so hot. I can't see her yet, but she's sobbing and it don't sound like she's moving anymore.

"Carol?" I murmur. "Carol!"

"I… I'm here," she squeaks.

"You hurt?"

"I'm okay."

"Can you see my light?"

"Yes."

"Just follow my light."

"I can't," she whispers, on the verge of full blown hysteria. "I can't!"

"Yes, you can," Adie coaxes breathlessly, but Carol's losing it, gasping for air like there ain't none left. "Carol? Carol, listen to me. Look, see that light? You see how close it is? Daryl, Daryl's right there waitin' for you, alright? He's right there, just… just a few more feet, alright?"

"Come on," I murmur, leaning as far into the tunnel as I can and still keep my feet on the ground. "We're gonna get through this together. Come on. Come on."

It takes a moment and all I can hear is Adie crooning, so softly I can't make out what she's saying, but it seems to be helping 'cause Carol's moving again, clawing her way forward, and I can see her now. She's shaking so bad she can barely hang onto her light, face streaked with tears, but she's here.

"Come on," I encourage, reaching for her lantern. "Come on."

I pass the lantern off to Connie, then place my hands underneath Carol's arms, helping turn her around on her back so she ain't coming out face first.

"Go ahead," she whimpers.

"I gotcha," I murmur, pulling her out and setting her on her feet. "I gotcha."

Connie takes over, letting Carol cling to her, while I turn back to the tunnel, shining my light and waiting for a glimpse of red hair.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Hey, guys?" Jerry pants, alarmed.

"What is it?" Aaron questions, the two of us pausing in our slow crawl towards Daryl's light.

Jerry doesn't answer, but I can hear him frantically cranking his flashlight, the high-pitched mechanical whir amplified in the small space.

"What is it, Jer?" I demand.

"Just be quiet for a second," he whispers, whirring away.

There's another noise, too, low and getting closer and… oh, no fucking way. Not in here. Walkers.

"Go, go, go!" Jerry roars. "Go!"

"Go, go, go!" Aaron echoes, nudging me forward with his flashlight.

I don't need to be told twice, redoubling my efforts, clawing my way forward.

"Adie!" Daryl hisses. "Adie, come on!"

"Jerry, come on!" Aaron hollers.

I can see Daryl now, his worried face peering down at me while I scramble towards him.

"Come on!" He says frantically, smacking the ground at the mouth of the tunnel. "Adie, come on!"

I fold in on myself like some kind of fucked up, terrified pretzel, swing my legs around, and scoot to the edge, sliding out of the hole feet first. I give Daryl a real quick it's-good-to-see-you-again victory tap to the gut and whirl around to help pull Aaron out. Jerry's supposed to be right behind us. Aaron leans down into the hole and I shine a light over his shoulder, illuminating our struggling friend.

"Jerry!" Aaron shrieks. "Come on! You're almost there!"

"Guys!" Jerry hollers. "I'm… I'm stuck."

Daryl forces his way between Aaron and me, thrusting his arm down into the hole.

"Here!" He shouts. "Take my hand!"

Jerry's stuck, caught on a low chunk of rock protruding from the top of the tunnel.

"My feet!" He cries. "My feet! They got my feet! They're biting my feet!"

"Your sword!" I yell over Daryl's shoulder. "Take it off!"

It's a struggle in such tight quarters, but he manages to get the strap undone and send his sword up through the hole, passing it to Daryl who passes it to Connie before diving back into the opening, reaching for Jerry with both hands.

"Come on," he urges. "Come on. Take my hand!"

Aaron leans in beside Daryl, the two of them grabbing hold of Jerry's hands and pulling hard, and finally, finally he's out. I drop to my knees, examining his feet while Daryl and Aaron take out the two walkers before they can worm their way out of the tunnel, Kelly right beside me.

"You good?" She questions as Jerry slumps down against the wall, panting, eyes flickering about in terror.

I cry out in relief. No bites. They didn't get him.

"It's okay," Kelly soothes. "They didn't bite through. You're good. It's alright. It's okay."

It's silent for a moment or two, all of us just catching our breath and, at least in my case, marveling at the fact we're all still alive and standing on solid ground.

"Hey," Magna blurts, pointing and marching towards a ray of light streaming down from a few yards away. "Hey. Look!"

"Wait!" Daryl wraps an arm around her middle just before she walks right over the edge of the cliff we're standing upon, stopping her from falling into the deep chasm below.

"There any matches left?" I blurt, earning a withering glare from Magna before she produces the tin and returns it to Daryl.

The tunnel walkers are so rotted it takes almost no effort at all to twist an arm off. Poor bastard. My stomach lurches at the sound of splintering bones, though, and I have to look away. Still, I get the job done, holding the torn, shrunken limb out to Daryl, who strikes a match and lights the stump end on fire before dropping it over the edge of the cliff. Down, down, down it goes, the low growls of the horde swelling into a hellish roar as the flame plummets to the ground. Guess we're not going down, then.

-

In a truly astonishing turn of events, I was wrong. According to Jerry,  _ dudes… we fell down a mineshaft, there's gotta be another one around here somewhere.  _ It's by way of that revelation Daryl decided we were gonna take our chances, and we wound our way down the path built into the cliffside until we did, indeed, come across another mine shaft. This one's been boarded up, though, and I know enough about mines to know that isn't exactly promising. Still, it's more promising than fighting through the horde or just staying put until we die of dehydration, so here we are, breaking two by fours off the wall and forcing our way, single file, into the long abandoned mineshaft.

*Daryl's POV*

"Why are we standing around looking at it?" Magna demands.

The closer we get to getting outta here, the more antsy she's become. We're barricaded in here, though, log supports, rocks, and dirt blocking our path.

"Because," Adie huffs, dragging her palm across her forehead to catch the sweat beading at her hairline. "We move the wrong piece, this whole thing comes down around us."

Connie nods, backing her up before Magna can argue like she always does when it's Adie speaking. 

"We got to be very careful," Kelly translates for her sister.

"Alright," I sigh. "Find somethin' to dig with."

I get started on one of the bigger wooden supports, Adie immediately moving in to help me.

"Nuh-uh," I grunt, angling my body between her and the log before she can get her hands on it. "You ain't liftin' nothin'," she scowls but I don't give a shit. "Hey, Aaron, can you help me with this?"

"Uh, yeah," he says, glancing quizzically from my face to Adie's and back. "Yeah."

Adie scoffs, turning away and rifling through a cart full of rusted old tools without a word. She can be pissed all she wants, I don't want her working harder than she's gotta.

"Hey, check this out," Kelly blurts, emerging from the shadows. "Yo. Somebody left this crate of dynamite."

"Yeah, okay, that's really cool," Jerry breathes, staring in horror at the weeping explosive in her hand. "But maybe somebody left it there because it's obviously insanely dangerous. That thing's sweatier than I am."

"Kelly," Adie murmurs calmly, in the same soothing tone she'd used with Carol in the tunnel. "I'm gonna need you to put that back where you found it right now and I need you to do it very,  _ very  _ carefully."

Kelly nods, scurrying to put the death stick back, gently placing it with the rest and re-covering the crate.

"When it looks wet like that," Adie explains softly, imparting her knowledge much more patiently than Rosita did when she taught us all about explosives and their dangers. "They call it sweatin', 'cause it's leakin' nitroglycerin. If you'd dropped that, set it down too hard, breathed on it the wrong way…"

Kelly sticks close to Adie while the rest of us yank pieces from the barricade, working as fast as we can without compromising the integrity, so close to seeing the sun again we can almost taste it.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Wanna take a break?"

Aaron's staring at Magna with concern. She's hauling ass like she's the goddamn Energizer Bunny and it probably wouldn't piss me off so much if Daryl wasn't under the impression I'm incapable of assisting with anything that weighs more than five or ten pounds.

"I can rest when," Magna gasps, twisting to yank another board from the barricade. "When we get home."

"You in a hurry?" Aaron questions wryly.

"I just don't wanna hang out here any longer than I have to, do you?" She snaps.

"No, but… you barely rested, haven't eaten anything," he glances at me pointedly, I guess trying to convince me again how much me and Magna are alike, before turning his attention back to her. "You never stop."

"I…" she sighs breathlessly, dropping another piece of wood unceremoniously onto the heap of rotted two by fours accumulating on the ground at our feet. "I didn't leave things good with Yumiko."

"I'm sorry," Aaron says solemnly.

"Me, too."

They both look so damn forlorn and I hate it. It bothers me, the two of 'em acting like we're dead already. I know it's been at the back of our minds, too, the possibility of Alpha attacking while we're stuck down here, unable to help, but we can still hear the horde and that gives me hope. If she's gonna attack, it's gonna be with everything she's got, not just a handful of walkers and her little skin cult. Using walkers to fight their fights for them has made them weak, easy to take down without their precious guardians. Our people are battle-hardened and experience-trained. I have faith in them.

"Hey," I murmur, Magna's eyes snapping to mine. "We're gonna get outta here, alright?"

As if on cue, Daryl yanks a large chunk of wood from the barricade, dirt and rocks cascading down on us like he'd cut a hole in the bottom of a sandbag.

"Come on, go," he pants, sending Kelly up into the light streaming down from the hole outside.

"Just a little more!" She shouts, muffled, the opening at the end of the shaft just big enough for her to poke her head through.

I scramble into the light, hefting the hammer I'd found among the leftover tools, using the claw end to chip away at the opening, Aaron, Magna, and the others right beside me. It's like being this close to open air again has ignited something in us and we attack with a new ferocity. We're going home.

"Where's Carol?"

*Daryl's POV*

Adie freezes at the question, dropping back down into the shaft, marching towards the small, wooden crate of explosives we'd been carefully avoiding, crouching and pulling the cover aside.

"God damn it!" She hisses, springing upright, whirling around and stalking towards the mine entrance.

"No!" I blurt, grabbing her elbow. "No, I'll go."

"Daryl-"

"I'll get her," I assure her, already on my way. "You stay, help 'em open it up!"

I backtrack all the way to the tunnel we'd crawled through before I spot Carol. She's climbed down the cliffside, the top of her head barely visible in the darkness until she strikes a match, illuminating both her tear-stained face and the missing stick of dynamite. God damn it. I scramble down the cliffside after her, desperately trying to get to her before she gets us both killed 'cause I can't run, I can't leave her here. I won't give up on her. She screams, losing her footing, and my heart drops, but she's still hanging on, she's still hanging…

"Take my hand," I murmur, reaching a flat spot in the cliffside just above where she's dangling from the wall, stretching my hand out toward her. "Come on."

For a second, I'm afraid she's just gonna let go, give herself to the horde, but then her fingers curl around mine. I pull her up with one hand, the other desperately seeking purchase against the wall, my heart thumping in the hollow of my throat, but she's here, upright beside me, her boots firmly on the ground again.

"What the hell're you doin'?" I demand breathlessly, holding onto her just a little too tight 'cause part of me is still scared she's gonna slip.

"We can take out half her horde from here," she says haltingly, sobbing with fear or guilt or maybe disappointment.

Jesus. It's like trying to hold onto a fucking bullet train. She ain't gonna stop and it don't matter how much I need her to, she just ain't gonna stop.

"You're gonna get yourself killed."

"She killed my boy," she sobs, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I know," I soothe. "But you gotta come back with me. Please. Come on."

She reaches for the dynamite.

*Adrienne's POV*

An explosion rocks through the shaft, shaking the earth around us, impossibly loud. I scramble to my feet while the ground continues to tremble, Connie's hand shooting out to help me up.

"Come on!" Aaron cries, he and Jerry lifting the massive support beam the blast had dislodged, desperately waving us forward, out of the hole, but I can't. "Hey, move! Adie!"

"I'm not leavin' him!" I holler, tearing down the shaft and back into the caves.

"No!" Aaron roars. "What are you doing?!"

Connie and Magna are on my heels, Connie's light doing almost nothing in the dirt-clouded air. I can't see anything, tears and dust and…

"Daryl!" I rasp, he and Carol emerging from the haze.

Carol's bleeding, blood trickling down her face, barely on her feet, hanging on Daryl, and I duck beneath her other arm, Daryl and I dragging her back into the mineshaft while the walls crumble around us.

"Come on!" Magna urges from somewhere behind my head. "Come on! Hurry!"

Jerry's holding the support beam on his own, the only thing keeping the opening from collapsing, but he won't be able to hold it much longer.

"I can't!" He groans, gritting his teeth.

"Daryl, go!" I holler.

He doesn't argue, just scrambles up and out of the shaft, leaning back down into the hole from the top.

"Gimme your hand!" He shouts, reaching for Carol. "I'll pull her up!"

"Go, Carol!" I urge, boosting her up so Daryl can get her out.

"We've got more skins!" Magna shrieks, marching back into the collapsing mineshaft, Connie on her heels.

"Jerry, get out!" I roar, hurling myself into one of the Whisperers, plunging my blade into her skull.

"Jerry!" Aaron hollers from outside. "Jerry, give me your hand!"

He's not moving, his eyes flickering between me, Magna, and Connie, and the exit, torn. But we're out of time.

"Jerry, now!" I shriek. "Go, we got this! Get out!"

I shove the last Whisperer to the ground, Connie's knife flashing as she buries it in his skull.

"Come on!" I shriek, and the three of us break into a sprint.

We're gonna make it.

*Daryl's POV*

"Adie! Adrienne!"

Her name tears itself from my throat, half shriek, half sob, as I fling myself on top of the rubble. A split second after Jerry emerged from the mineshaft, another explosion, louder and bigger than the first one, erupted and the ground caved in. I'm only vaguely aware of Kelly's crying, focused only on moving as many rocks as I can in the least amount of time possible 'cause Adie's still down there, she's  _ still down there, _ and I need to get her out, I need to get to her, she's gotta be okay, she's-

"Daryl..." Aaron says gently. "Daryl. She's-"

"She ain't gone!" I sob, choking on dust, bloody fingers grasping desperately at stone. "She ain't!"

"It'll take us a week to clear this," he says, voice thick with emotion.

"Then  _ help _ me!" I snarl, flinging another chunk of rubble aside, vision swimming.

"No," Kelly cries, springing upright, her face mirroring the rage and grief coursing through my skin. "We can't!"

I get to my feet, swaying slightly, the overwhelming loss threatening to knock me right back down again. Adie's… our baby,  _ our baby… _ she can't be gone, she can't. I can't let her go.

"That blast is gonna call walkers and Whisperers from a hundred miles from here," Kelly continues through her tears, voice brittle and breaking. "We don't want our backs pressed against this mountain when they come. We can't  _ save  _ them if  _ we're _ dead!"

My shoulders sag and I feel like I'm gonna collapse, like my knees are just gonna give out, refuse to support my weight.

"Come on," Aaron breathes, reaching for my hand.

What can I do? What the hell am I gonna do? Kelly's right. They can't stay here, but I can't leave, I  _ can't.  _ I grab onto Aaron's hand, allowing him to pull me down from the pile of debris. I half expect her to just pop out from behind Jerry, crack some joke about the dangers of mining without a permit, grinning and beautiful and just fine, because surely,  _ surely _ life ain't this cruel. We were so close. We were so… and then Carol. I choke back a sob, pointing an accusatory finger at the woman. I can't even look at her. I did everything I could think of to get her to come back with me, to trust us again, and now… she grabs onto my arm as I try to pass and I jerk violently from her grasp.

"Go ahead and say it to me," she whimpers, anguished. "I deserve it. Just say it to me. You were right about everything, just say it."

I won't. I ain't gonna give her another reason to pity herself. I try to move past her again and she stops me again.

"No,  _ please, _ " she sobs. "She was pregnant and you loved her," she gasps, beside herself. "And now she's gone because of me. Please, just say it!" She claps her hands over the top of her head, clutching at her hair. "Please say it!"

She folds in on herself 'cause I ain't the only one who loved her. She just didn't love Adie enough to stop putting her in danger, stop putting us all in danger, and Adie's… no. No, she ain't gone.

"Go home," I order, turning to face Aaron. "Tell the others we found the horde."

"Where're you gonna be?" He demands, sniffling.

"They got out before us," I mutter around the painful lump in my throat, dipping my chin at the dead Whisperers, my lip trembling. "There's gotta be another way in."

I ain't gonna stop looking. I'm gonna find her. I have to. I can't just leave her down there. I'm gonna find her and if she's gone, if she's… I'm gonna put her down.


	27. Pain Made You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: references past miscarriage

**Chapter 27**

*Adrienne's POV*

"Adie!"

My eyes flutter open, blinding white light searing through my retinas. Someone's trying to talk to me, I can hear it, but I can't tell who it is over the ringing in my ears. I can see the vague outlines of somebody behind the light and I squint, trying to focus, but I can't breathe. Oh, my god, I'm suffocating. It's like someone's lodged a rubber stopper inside my windpipe and my hands fly to my throat, clawing frantically at the skin, some irrational part of my brain clinging to the idea I can get enough air again simply by opening myself up, but somebody grabs hold of my wrists.

"Adie, stop! Stop!"

The light bobs and shifts, dipping lower, Connie's face coming into focus above me, blood pouring from an open wound on her forehead. Magna's here, too, her hands locking mine in a vice grip. Air suddenly floods my lungs, painful, and Magna forces me upright when I start to cough, choking on the dirt and the dust, spitting blood. The ringing in my ears lessens, not entirely subsiding, but enough I can hear other things again.

"It's okay," Magna soothes, rubbing my back while Connie dabs at my face. "Shh… it's okay."

The explosion… Daryl! I leap to my feet, tripping in the dark, scrambling my way towards the exit. I need to get to Daryl. Nothing else matters, I just need… no. No, but… I collapse, dropping to my knees and sobbing.

*Daryl's POV*

I ain't stupid. The best way back into the cave is the same way we got in there in the first place. If Adie somehow survived, if any of 'em are still alive, they'll be working their way back the way we came. Maybe they're out right now. I circle back around to the dry stretch of riverbed we crossed on the way in. I hear him before I see him and drop down into the riverbed, ducking out of sight. One Whisperer, examining the walkers we killed on the riverbanks, staring suspiciously at an arrow protruding from an eye socket. They travel in packs, though, so the others ain't far. If I can get the jump on this freak… I creep my way up the banks once his back is turned, knife held up high, level with my chin, but before I can get close he joins another skin guarding the mouth of the mineshaft and I have to duck back down. If it's just them two, I can take 'em out easy. Adie mentioned once they ain't exactly skilled in combat, not when they ain't got the dead around to protect their asses. I'm about to spring from the bed and attack when Alpha emerges from the mineshaft. She ain't alone. They're here to move the horde, either 'cause it ain't safe here no more or 'cause they're gonna strike now. We trespassed again and unless Alpha's a lot stupider than I thought, she's gotta know there's a rat by now.

I can't let her leave.

She's only got three of her friends with her, and they ain't moving the whole herd, only a dozen, but it's still too many to move in on guns blazing. I gotta be stealthy about it. I move into the woods on the other side of the river and follow them upstream a ways, just waiting for my moment. But I'm getting impatient. What if Adie's stuck under something, what if she's hurt so bad she ain't able to move? Every second I put this shit off is another second she might be closer to dying. If she ain't already. I line up my shot and send one of my knives spinning through the air. I hit my mark, the blade sinking into the Whisperer's chest, and he drops to the ground, screaming.

Alpha and the other two just leave him there, sprinting into the shallow waters while their friend is torn to pieces. They got their backs to me, all three pairs of eyes darting around warily in every direction but mine. Soon as they're back on dry land, I spring from the trees, burying my knife in the first skull I can reach. Alpha whips around, startled, going for her gun, but I kick it out of her hands, my blade slashing through the air. I know I hit her, but I ain't got time to see where she's hurt before her last remaining ally throws himself between us. I slit his throat and he goes down just as Alpha regains her balance. My knife goes flying, her own blade slashing across my face and cutting into my forearm.

I hardly even feel it, can't bring myself to give a shit I got blood in my eyes. All I can think about is Adie, how I'm gonna find her no matter what, how Alpha's gonna take me to her. Through the crimson haze, I make out the outline of a large piece of driftwood on the ground. It's gonna have to do. I snatch it from the dirt, whirling around, swinging it at Alpha like a baseball bat, knocking her over and jamming the end into her chest.

"Where are they?!" I snarl, leaning over her, pressing onto the stick with all my weight.

She don't say nothin', she's still trying to sit up, so I twist the stick, a feral scream tearing itself from her throat.

"Tell me!"

All the noise has drawn the walkers, corpses shambling across the river, unhindered by the water, and I'm forced to abandon her for the moment. I rip the stick from her skin, desperately hoping she's hurt bad enough she ain't gonna get up, and start swinging. There's still blood in my eyes, impeding my vision, and blinking it away ain't doing shit for me, so I just keep moving, praying I hit something, but it ain't going so well. Alpha's blade tears into my skin again, she's going for my arms, I think trying to get me to drop the stick, but I ain't gonna. I keep blindly swinging, rage consuming me. This is all her fault. I took her kid, so she took my baby, she took  _ Adrienne.  _ Before I manage to get my bearings, figure out where the hell she went, her knife plunges into my thigh and Jesus  _ Christ,  _ I feel that one.

I drop to one knee, fingers curling around the handle, my immediate instinct being to pull it out, to fix it, but I can't. I'll bleed to death. Kelly's voice rings in my ears. 

_ We can't save them if we're dead! _

I force myself to my feet and run.

*Adrienne's POV*

The mineshaft collapsed. I don't know how the hell the three of us survived, I don't know if it's a fluke or a miracle or if it just boils down to simple science, all I know is we're stuck. We were so close, we were… we were gonna make it. I take a breath, but it gets caught on the way down and I erupt into a fit of barking coughs. I'm not broken. My ears are still ringing, and the left one feels like it's been hard-packed with cotton balls, but the gash just above my temple seems to be the worst of my injuries. We're all scraped up, bleeding, but we're alive.

"Probably would've been worse without that armor," Magna mutters hoarsely, rapping her knuckles on the metal plates over my belly.

Oh my god, my baby…

A weight settles over my chest, familiar dread spreading from somewhere deep in my guts, like a sickness.  _ My baby. _

"No," I rasp, scrambling to my feet, wedging one hand between my legs, feeling for the same sticky, rust colored wetness I'd felt years ago.

Nothing. There's nothing there. Not yet. I sway on my feet, something inside me caving in on itself, this frantic, feral beast clawing in my chest cavity. My baby. I don't know… I don't know if… I sink to my knees, hands flying to cradle my face, and I don't feel the bite of my fingernails when they break the skin near my hairline and I don't feel the burn in my lungs when I start to heave and gasp, trembling, tears pouring from my eyes. All I can feel is the overwhelming grief, the crushing sense of loss. It's gone, it's all gone.

*Daryl's POV*

I ain't sure how far behind me she is, but I know she's gonna follow me. She's hunting. But I gotta stop, I gotta slow down. We can't save them if we're dead. I limp my way into an abandoned gas station meets tire and lube shop, long reclaimed by nature, trees defying man and shooting upwards through cracked, crumbling concrete, and collapse. I just need to hide. I just need to wait her out. I hurt her pretty bad, too, she's gotta give it up some time. That's what I think, anyway, until I hear her shuffling around, getting closer and closer and she's here.

I slump against what used to be the front desk, panting heavily, my leg throbbing with each ragged breath, and reach up to the counter's surface with searching hands, seeking out something, anything I can use as a weapon. My fingers stumble over something cold, metal, and close around a tire iron. It's gonna do. I can hear her breathing, accompanied by heavy, stilted footfalls. She stops just inside where the door, now just an empty frame, used to be. She sighs heavily, the sound followed by a metal clanging noise, like… like she's smacking the barrel of her gun against the brick wall.

She's calling the walkers, and it's working, too. I can hear them, snarling and growling and entirely too fucking close.

*Adrienne's POV*

Connie waves at me, motioning for me to take her light, but I can't, I can't, I can't move, I can't think of anything else, all I know is my baby might be dead inside me right now and  _ Daryl…  _ Magna takes the light from Connie, who starts to sign the moment her hands are free.

_ You are okay. _

She points to herself, then me, then Magna.

_ Family. Remember? _

"I'm pregnant," I blurt breathlessly.

Magna's face falls, her eyes dropping to my belly and back up again.

"Are you serious?" She hisses. "Why the hell are you out here?"

"To protect," I cough, fresh tears welling in my eyes. "To protect Daryl."

"Daryl can protect Daryl!" She snaps. "You should be home, eating pickles and talking about how Alexandria is single-handedly responsible for reshaping the whole fucking world, or whatever the hell it is you people do."

Connie furrows her eyebrows, regarding Magna sternly. I close my eyes, attempting to steady my breathing. I can't panic, not now.  _ If _ my baby is gone, there's nothing I can do about it. Not a damn thing. But Maggie's armor protected me, so maybe it protected the baby, too. Maybe there's still a chance.

"Okay," I sigh, wiping my eyes and sniffing. "Okay, we gotta… we gotta get outta here."

*Daryl's POV*

It's three of 'em and they're all coming at me one right after the other, bypassing Alpha at the door. I glance at the tire iron in my hand. I need something else, something just in case I drop this thing or it gets stuck and I can't get it back. My eyes flicker around frantically, settling on a fire extinguisher sitting atop the workbench opposite me. Shit. This is gonna hurt. I scoot my ass across the floor anyway and kick at the bench with my good leg, the extinguisher teetering and toppling down just in time for me to grab it and hurl it at the first walker's head.

The walker drops, the extinguisher tumbling with it and rolling across the floor. Shit! I snatch up the tire iron as the second walker bears down on me, grab hold of its shoulder and thrust the iron up through its jaw. The third walker's right behind the second and I place my boot flat against its rotted belly, desperately trying to keep it at bay. I'm out of options. I glance at the knife protruding from my leg and think of the scars on Adie's thigh, the ones she got 'cause she refused to go down without a fight that night the quarry herd breached Alexandria. Out of weapons, she did the only thing she could do. I grit my teeth and grab hold of the handle, ripping the knife from my flesh and plunging it into the walker's skull.

*Adrienne's POV*

_ They're moving them, _ Connie signs.

We'd ditched the flashlight when we realized we weren't alone in here, and from then on we've been communicating strictly through sign. It's not the easiest form of communication in the dark, but we can't risk being seen and, now that our eyes have adjusted, it's not so bad. I just nod wearily. I know. The Whisperers are here, inside the cave. Connie, Magna, and I had backtracked to the tunnel opening Jerry had barely made it through. Magna thought it was our best shot, but we can't risk going back down there, not knowing walkers can move through the tunnel, too. We're already in rough shape, we're not making it down that thing again. I glance down at the walkers Daryl and Aaron had put down just outside the tunnel. Shit...

_ I know what we need to do _ , I sign, pulling my knife from my belt and kneeling beside  the corpses, jamming the blade into one of their stomachs, slicing across until its insides are spilling from the jagged hole while Magna and Connie look on, horrified. I don't know the sign for 'hey, let's cover ourselves in walker guts', so I just sign  _ put them on,  _ pointing at the bloody mess and hoping they understand. I move on to the second walker, cutting it open while Magna and Connie smear guts all over themselves. Guess they understood, then. I inhale sharply, holding my breath and shoving my hands into the walker's abdominal cavity, coming away with a couple handfuls of camouflage, spreading the mess over my face and down my arms. Once we're sufficiently covered, reeking to high heaven, I motion for my companions to follow me. We're going down.

_ Are you crazy? _ Magna demands.

_ Trust me,  _ I sign, taking both her hand and Connie's and squeezing.

In another stroke of luck or convenient science, the first blast had caused a rock slide of sorts, what used to be a cliff crumbling in on itself to form a steep hill made from rough chunks of stone, and we're able to simply just walk down. Still, simplicity doesn't make it any less terrifying and the three of us cling to each other the entire way down. The explosion took out the majority of the dead in this section of the cave, at least as far as we're able to discern in the near pitch dark at the bottom of the cavern, but there are still hundreds upon hundreds of them all packed together, jostling around as they shamble across the uneven floor. I take a deep breath, once again squeezing Connie's and Magna's hands, because this is the scariest part. Letting go. But we have to if we want to pull this off, get back to our people. So we separate, falling into step with the dead, mimicking their disjointed shuffle, and we walk.

*Daryl's POV*

I think I'm dying. I ain't ready. I still got shit to do. I got people to protect. It don't seem fair, but I guess life never really was. Still, my eyes remain stubbornly open, peering up at the patches of indigo sky peeking through the empty spaces in the rafters. That ain't what I'm seeing, though. I'm seeing the sun, a fiery crimson halo, the flash of a grin and a dimple, eyes like a forest in summer. I guess part of me is still clinging to the idea she's alive. I want more than anything to stay for her, be a father to our kid, keep our people safe… but I can't get up. I stopped hurting ages ago. First I felt numb. Now I just feel cold and weightless.

"Can you see beyond the darkness," Alpha murmurs weakly from her place at the door. "Into the light?"

"No."

I ain't sure why I'm bothering except for maybe talking might keep me around for a bit. Maybe I can have a little more time with the halo and the dimple and them eyes that're like Mother Nature herself decided to let Adie have her best colors. I just wanna stay a little while longer, keep her with me until the last possible moment and maybe take a piece of her with me when I leave, some little fragment of a memory. I know they say your whole life is supposed to flash before your eyes in them final moments, but maybe that's just for people who die quick 'cause I'm playing through all my favorite memories at will, like home videos. I ain't ready.

"I'm tinglin' with joy..." Alpha whispers breathlessly. "As I see.. the ones who broke me… all around us, standin' there… thank you."

Jesus Christ, I wish she'd shut the fuck up. Figures I wouldn't be allowed to even  _ die _ in peace. She's dying, too. Maybe she'll die first, maybe my last moments can just be mine.

"Thank you," she continues. "Thank you. Thank you for makin' me strong. Pain made me," she raises her voice and I guess she's talking to me again. "Pain made you. Pain made your mate. What was her name? Adrienne?"

"Fuck you," I try to snarl, but it comes out barely above a whisper.

I ain't sure why she's choosing to waste her breath like this. I think she just wants to keep causing pain, right up to the very end. 

"Pain made my Lydia."

"You lost her," I pant, 'cause she ain't the only one who can cause pain. 

"Like you lost Adrienne?" She counters, bristling like I got to her and she don't wanna admit it. "She belongs to me now. She was one of the ones left in the cave. She will walk with my horde."

"You drove her away," I spit, ignoring her blatant attempt at hurting me. "'Cause you didn't love her."

Not like I loved my Adie. Not like Adie. Not like…

"What did you say?"

Guess I pissed her off. I can hear her trying to get up.

"What did you say, boy? I can't hear you," she takes a couple steps, stumbling. "I'm all ears."

She don't take two more steps before she falls and she still don't give it up. I can hear the sound of denim on concrete as she tries to worm her way over here. She ain't gonna make it, though. She ain't. I close my eyes and drift away.

-

The next thing I'm aware of are the birds. They're singing and I can feel the sun on my face. This is it. I'm dying. The idea sparks a rage in me. I ain't done. I ain't fucking done, god damn it! I fight it, I fight with everything I got left in me, and crack my eyes open, waking with a start.

"Easy, easy."

Lydia's here. I thought it was a dream, her mother singing that damn encyclopedia song. I thought… I ain't dead. I'm slumped against a tree and I think I remember Lydia begging me to just walk a little further, just a little more, stumbling my way here. The birds… 

"How long I been asleep for?" I croak.

"Most of the day," she murmurs.

"And you were just out here?" I demand.

"Yeah," she nods. "Just watchin' you. Watchin' them. Deciding."

"Deciding what?"

She don't answer me but I know. I've been there, after that night at Woodbury when I got my brother back. I thought I could make it so I didn't have to choose. I was wrong.

"Did you kill her?"

"If it was your father, could you have?"

It's my turn not to answer. I don't know. I don't know if I could've done it. I thought about it a million times. I thought about it a lot when Adie killed the Governor. She don't talk about it, never did really. But I know she still thinks about it. Thought. Thought about it. Before I can stop them, tears well in my eyes and spill down my cheeks.

"Think you can make it to Hilltop?" Lydia questions gently, tears glistening in her own eyes. "I'll help you find her, I can get you past my mother's horde. But you need a doctor first."

She's right. We can't help them if we're dead.

*Adrienne's POV*

I haven't seen Connie or Magna in hours. I lost them when the cavern split into two tunnels, the current of the dead sweeping me one way and my friends another. I'm alone. My body feels like a tin can on a string, dangling from someone's bumper while they speed down the highway. But I'm out. I'm out of the cave. It's bittersweet. I'm free, yes, but Alpha's only got two reasons to mobilize the horde. She knows some of us got out, she has to know that, therefore her hiding spot isn't safe anymore. She could simply be relocating. Or she could be sending the horde to slaughter my people for trespassing, or for killing some of her Whisperers, or dropping dynamite into her walkers. I won't know for certain until we get there, but I know the route to Hilltop like the back of my hand and I think we're headed right for them. I just hope they're ready.

*Daryl's POV*

Me and Lydia left first thing this morning to scout the cave, see what we could see. I'm all bandaged and stitched up and I wanted to start looking last night, but Alex, Hilltop's doctor, wouldn't hear of it and neither would Rosita. Alexandria was attacked while we were stuck in that cave, Rosita was pretty beat up. Beta snuck in through a tunnel Dante opened up when he buried Cheryl. Makes me think of them mole people who supposedly lived underneath New York City. Anyway, they ain't done attacking. Ain't even close. Alpha's mobilized the herd and they're coming right at us. We got until sundown, maybe. We ain't ready for this. I pull into the gates, bringing the bike to a screeching halt in front of Barrington House.

"Any sign of them?" Yumiko demands, stalking down the front steps the moment I cut the engine.

"We didn't get that far," I mutter, waiting for Lydia to climb off the back of the bike.

"What do you mean?" Kelly questions. "What happened?"

"We gotta talk," I wince, doing this weird little dance hop thing, leg throbbing, as I dismount.

"D, I'm sorry," Luke says, squinting at me in disbelief. "We gotta find our people, man."

Does he fucking think I don't know that? My  _ wife  _ is out there. Maybe. God, I hope so. I don't wanna put off looking, but we gotta.

"No," Lydia says adamantly. "You can't go out there. My mother's coming."

It's a bomb no one was expecting and, as  _ I _ expected, caused chaos the moment it was dropped. We managed to get the leaders in one room together, explained the situation, but everyone's divided and I don't know what the hell to do.

"I say we stay and fight," Earl suggests.

"You heard them out there," Lydia protests. "We have to go. Even if you took out half the herd in that cave, she's got  _ thousands  _ left. You can't stay here."

"The skins could march straight to Alexandria for all we know," Earl argues.

"Yeah, we're right in their way," I point out.

"Well, maybe she goes around us," Earl says, unconcerned.

"She doesn't need to go around you," Lydia snaps. "She'll just run through you."

"I'm not running again," Jerry announces. "Hell, no."

"Lydia's right," Dianne insists. "We can rebuild anywhere."

"Come on," Earl scoffs, chuckling derisively. "We can't," he gestures at Aaron. "How many scouting missions you been on, son? Hundreds? Have you ever seen a place like Hilltop?"

"No," Aaron sighs defeatedly.

"We have a few dozen able-bodied fighters here," Yumiko points out. "Maybe. You like those odds? 'Cause I don't."

"Neither do I," Aaron agrees. "Now, we don't have to die here."

"We're going to have to fight," Earl says earnestly. "And if we die, we die fighting for a place that  _ means  _ something. It's what Adie would want."

I stiffen, tears springing to my eyes. Rosita lays her hand over mine, and it's comforting. Yumiko may be running things around here, but this is still Adie's place. She had these people's hearts, probably would've had their votes if she'd ever bothered to run against Jesus, and that didn't change when she left for Alexandria. They love her. Earl's talking like she's dead, like we gotta defend this place in her honor, but I just… until I find her body, she ain't gone. She ain't gone.

"She always said she wanted to die with her boots on," Earl continues, oblivious or maybe just unsympathetic to the several sets of teary eyes in the room. " _ Fighting.  _ Can you think of a better way to go?"

"Yeah," Aaron mutters, wiping away an errant tear with the back of his hand. "We go with my daughter's life intact. And Judith's and Ezra's and Adam's. You want me to keep going?"

He's right. If Adie were here, right now,  _ in this room... _ she'd want to fight. She would. But she wouldn't do it. She'd put all that shit aside, put her own feelings last, to protect the ones who need it the most. We fight for our future, and it feels cheesy as fuck to even think it, but the kids  _ are  _ the future. It ain't worth the risk.

"Alright," I decide. "Let's get the kids out first. Everybody, pack up. We're goin' to Oceanside. Grab weapons, food, whatever you can. We'll regroup there."

I leave the room before anyone can argue, hoping I made the right call. Hoping it's what Adie would do. Hoping it's enough.


	28. She Will Walk With My Horde

**Chapter 28**

The kids are our first priority. We gotta get them out now, before it's too late. Dianne, Lydia, and me are gonna take a couple wagons out, the kids stashed safely in the backs of each with Nabila and the other moms. Everyone else is gonna follow after they're packed up. If we're gonna rebuild somewhere, we gotta take as much with us as we can. Seeds for a new Hilltop. Judith's not happy. She wants to defend this place. She's still young enough to think we're invincible. RJ's okay with leaving, just so as long as he gets to keep wearing my vest. He calls it a cape, though. I guess it's 'cause he's still young enough to think a cape makes him invincible.

"Daryl," Judith blurts, she and RJ following me to the wagon. "I wanna fight."

"I know you do," I murmur, reaching for RJ's hand. "Don't argue. RJ, come on."

He allows me to lift him into the back of the wagon without protest, scuttling across the floorboards and selecting a seat beside Gracie. I turn to Judith, who's eyeing the wagon with contempt.

"Come on," I urge her forward.

She ain't happy, but she don't argue. She's the last of 'em, so I pull the canvas cover down after she's settled, concealing the kids from view just as Ezekiel comes strolling through the gates, Carol by his side. I know I should tell 'em what's up, but… I can't look at Carol without thinking about Adie, about how maybe I ain't never gonna see her again. If the blast killed her, she'd've turned by now. The thought sends a lightning bolt striking through me. We never let the ones we love turn.

_ She will walk with my horde. _

I can't think about that now. I gotta focus on the task. I shake it off, mount the bike, and lead the wagons outta here.

-

We ain't on the road even an hour before we gotta stop. We've reached a blockade, several massive downed trees obstructing the path forward. Two of our scouts, Felix and Penny, are hanging from trees on either side of the road, bodies thrashing and growling. I climb off the bike, staring up at them. I know who did this. Rick told me one night, back during the war with the Saviors, about how hopeless it felt trying to get Maggie to Hilltop the night we all ended up on our knees. How every road was blocked, how they were out of fuel, out of light, out of options…

"All the roads are gon' be like this now," I announce gravely, glancing over my shoulder at Dianne's and Lydia's horror-stricken faces. "We ain't gettin' through."

Judith, because of course she does, pops out of the cover, wide-eyed gaze darting upwards immediately, taking in the bodies of people she knew. I wanna be able to protect her from this, but I can't.

"It's Negan," I inform them. "He's with her now."

I hop back on the bike and start it up turning us around and heading back home knowing what this means. We're trapped. There ain't no way outta this. Looks like Earl's gonna get his fight, after all. It's gonna be a slaughter.

-

The kids are all bounding from the wagons almost the moment the wheels quit turning, those we left behind staring in confusion, wanting an explanation. Aaron bursts from the house, gathering Gracie into his arms before sending her inside with the others and stalking towards me.

"What happened?" He demands, brows furrowing in concern.

"She blocked all the roads," I tell him, exchanging a glance with Kelly. "Means they're closin' in on us. If we had a window to get out, we just missed it."

"But… we can't stay here," Kelly protests. "You said… you  _ all  _ said… we  _ can't _ stay here."

A heaviness falls over the group gathered around me, an almost suffocating weight in the air. They all know what this means. 

"We can… we can call Alexandria, right?" Luke stammers. "Call Alexandria, and we, they'll get fresh fighters here, right? And, and, and it's not just gonna be us. It's not gonna be just us, right?"

"Oceanside can't get here," Dianne shakes her head. "Alexandria, either. Not in time. Not after what happened. We're on our own."

"Divvy up your arsenals," Earl commands. "We got catapults up on the walls. And a damn good militia," he points at Aaron. "This is what you've all been practicin' for. Come on, now, people! Do whatever you need to get your heads on straight! This is gonna be the fight of our lives."

*Adrienne's POV*

I don't know how long I've been letting the dead carry me. I know it was light out when the mineshaft collapsed. It was dark when I shuffled outside with the herd and then it was light again and now the sun's setting. Michonne used to talk about how when she found Andrea that winter after the farm, it was almost too late. How she almost kept going, left her for dead. She said she was just another monster. The walkers didn't see her anymore. Andrea brought her back. Then Rick, Carl, the rest of us. We reminded her she was alive and she came back.

But I'm alone.

So I have to remind myself I'm alive. I'm still here. I was compiling a list in my head, items of proof I'm not gone yet. My heart's still beating. I have air moving in and out of my lungs. I'm still moving. One foot in front of the other, a painfully slow shuffle-drag, but I'm moving. That list grew boring after a while, mostly due to how short it was, and so I turned my focus instead on things that make me feel alive. The sun on my skin. Wind whipping through my hair. The first time I managed to flip a pancake, the way it spun in the air and landed perfectly back in the pan. Laughing with Jesus the second time I tried it and ended up with a half-cooked splat of goo on the floor. And Daryl. Daryl with his electric touch and gaze that scorches my bones. Daryl's voice, like whiskey and velvet and cigarettes. Daryl, who's gonna love me forever, Mrs. Dixon.

Always Daryl.

*Daryl's POV*

The rats ran through thirty minutes ago. It's like you used to see in old movies about sinking ships, when the bilge rats would flee first. We ain't got much time left. We're as prepared as we can be. We got weapons, we got a plan. It feels futile. But we don't know how to die quietly. If this is it, we're dying with our boots on. I make my way from the room that used to belong to Adie and limp down the stairs into the foyer, intent on visiting Glenn and Abraham one more time before this place is history, but stop in my tracks at the bottom of the staircase. Ezekiel's got his back to me, but I know he knows I'm here. He's in front of the large, antique mirror that hangs just inside the front door, staring like he don't know his own reflection. Guess if there's ever a time to make peace with somebody, it's now.

"Hey," I blurt.

"Here we go," he says apprehensively, turning to face me.

"You okay?" I question, pointing at my own neck.

"Nah," he says flatly. "I got cancer. But that's okay, you know what I'm sayin'?"

"Yeah," I dip my chin at the floor. "I'm sorry about that."

It's quiet for a moment. Uncomfortable. But he nods, accepting the apology for what it is. A truce.

"I'm sorry about Adrienne," he murmurs. "She was…"

He trails off, eyes glistening, probably trying to find some fancy word that could do her justice. I ain't sure a word exists.

"Yeah," I mutter, sniffing and blinking back the tears threatening to pour from my eyes again. "Look, you and I, uh… we never really had much to say to each other. But that doesn't mean I don't know all the things you been through. You're stronger than most, and there's a whole lotta people here real glad about that. I am, too."

"Thanks, man," he says softly, seemingly taken aback. "That means a lot."

"Yeah," I nod. "Things're gon' get real bad around here. I just wanna know that the kids are alright. If things go sideways, or you or I go down…"

"The other gets the children out," he fills in.

"You good with that?"

He steps closer and for a second I think maybe he's gonna take a swing at me, but he don't. He holds his hand up, out in front of him.

"Alright," I clasp his hand in mine gratefully and he gives it a shake before leaving the house without another word.

I sigh, the knots in my gut loosening just a little knowing I can count on him to get the kids out when the shit hits. I get the sudden sense there's eyes on me and turn to find Judith perched on one of the chairs that dot Barrington's entry hall.

"Hey," I greet, moving over to stand beside her. "You should be with the other kids."

"I wanna help," she announces, getting to her feet and staring defiantly up at me, all four foot nothin' of her. "I can fight."

"I know you can," I assure her. "I'm sorry about today. You didn't need to see those bodies like that."

"They were just walkers," she shakes her head. "I've killed plenty of walkers."

She's looking right up into my eyes, trying so hard to make me see how grown up she is. How unaffected. She's just like Carl was before he wised up. Just like him.

"I know," I nod. "But they weren't just walkers."

"I'm not scared," she insists.

"I know you're not. Maybe I am, little bit."

"Because Aunt Adie isn't here?"

I nod quietly. It ain't exactly that she's not here, though. It's not knowing what happened to her, the fear I'm gonna die tonight and I'll never know. That we're all gonna die tonight. I'm scared. And maybe admitting I'm scared will help Judith see it's okay for her to be scared, too. That being brave ain't about not being afraid.

"If I was scared," she hedges, taking a deep breath. "Maybe I'd be scared for RJ because he's so little."

"Yeah, I get that."

"Maybe I'd be worried about my mom," she continues, and I'm reminded with a pang how Michonne's out looking for weapons not knowing she might be coming back to nothing. "Maybe I'd be scared that you'd get hurt and I'd lose you. And Aunt Carol, too."

"There ain't no shame in that," I tell her firmly. "You know who you're fightin' for."

She's silent for a moment, taking that in, then turns to the chair where she'd been sitting, lifting my vest from the seat.

"I made you something," she announces, unfolding the vest proudly. "It's for luck."

She's painted over the missing wing, filling in the faded outline with various shades of blue, the sky blue at the top of the wing turning gradually darker, blending into a deep navy at the bottom, the wingtips studded with the same light blue she'd started with.

"No way," I grin, holding it up in front of me, taking in the details, the hand-drawn feathers. "I love it."

I flip it up over my head with a flourish and slide my arms through the holes, turning around to present my back to her. I ain't sure I ever got a present before. Merle gave me an open Bud Light and a bag of stale gummy bears once for my birthday, but it wasn't actually my birthday. I didn't tell him that. Just ate the bears anyway. I'm trying not to break down and cry in front of this little girl who thinks I'm so tough, but my chest is bursting.

"How do I look?" I question, swiveling my head so I can look at her over my shoulder.

"It looks good," she giggles.

I chuckle, turning back around and crouching down in front of her. I hate I gotta do this now, that this brief moment of happiness has to be brief.

"There's one other thing," I tell her seriously, sighing. "If during the fight, Ezekiel comes lookin' for you 'n RJ, you go with him. Whether you know where I'm at or not. Okay?" She looks down, like she ain't gonna agree to that. "Hey. You gotta  _ promise  _ me."

"I promise."

She smiles tentatively, then flings herself into my chest, wrapping her arms around me. I hold onto her, cupping the back of her head with one hand. There ain't nothin' I wouldn't do to keep this kid safe. I'd die for her. I straighten up, smiling and lifting the front of my vest pointedly before leaving the house and heading around back to the cemetery.

Earl said to do what we gotta to get our heads right and I guess it's hard for me to stand here, on the brink of another all out war, without thinking about Glenn and Abraham and everyone else we've lost. Rick. Carl. I've been wondering a lot about what Rick would do, how he'd handle Alpha. If he'd offer these assholes a chance to surrender. He didn't always do the right thing, but he always tried to do the things he thought were right. Guess that's the best I can do.

I was gonna bury Adie today. I was gonna find her. I know it would've been right to lay her to rest here or at Alexandria, buried with our other dead, but part of me didn't… I wanted to bury her somewhere else, somewhere far away from here, away from people, away from the constant fucking fight. Somewhere nothing could ever touch her. I can't let myself keep hoping she's alive out there. I think the pain would kill me, if I held onto that and she wasn't… and she was gone. I can hear someone coming and I know it's Carol without turning around. She stops just short of where I'm standing, but she don't say nothin' right away and I wonder if she's thinking about Adie, too. If she thinks we're all gonna die tonight. If she regrets what she did in the cave.

"Please don't hate me."

She's crying again and something twists in my guts. Grief, rage, guilt, I don't know. It's not an apology and I'm glad for that at least, 'cause it'd be bullshit. She ain't sorry. She  _ still _ ain't sorry. Still, if we're dying tonight… I don't want her to go thinking I ever stopped loving her. She's still my best friend. I turn around.

"I'm never gonna hate you."

She sobs, relieved, and I walk away. I walk away 'cause even though I love her, even though she's my best friend, even though we're probably not getting outta this alive… I still can't forgive her. I can't. I limp through the yard in the fading light, stopping only to grab a weapon from one of the tables Earl set up, a chain attached to a wooden handle, adorned with an oblong, spiked metal ball on the end, and join the rest of the militia just outside the gates. Kelly drops to one knee soon as I'm in position, placing her palms flat on the ground. Her eyes flutter closed in concentration, her hands firmly planted in the dirt, until she finds what she's looking for and locks eyes with me, nodding. They're here.

We can hear them now, thousands of low snarls coalescing into a singular roar as the first wave stumbles out of the woods a few hundred yards from our gates.

"Formation!" Aaron orders, prompting those on the frontlines to stand tall, tighten up the shield wall.

They ain't our first line of defense, though. We'd set up a couple traps, barriers between us and them. The first is a metal cable strung across the field, electrified, courtesy of Eugene and a dozen car batteries. It works like a charm on the first walker, sparking and slicing through its rotted neck like butter. But that was just one. The walkers start lining up, a bunch of 'em pressing against the wire at once, and it's too much. The power surges and the batteries blow, the cable rendered obsolete when it hits the ground and the walkers shuffle forward again.

"They're splitting into two!" Aaron hollers as they divide down the middle. "They're gonna load up! On my command, splitting ranks!"

I move forward, ahead of the shields, testing the swing of my weapon as the corpses shamble closer and closer to the second -last, if you ain't counting the actual walls- barrier, a makeshift fence comprised of brambles and tree limbs, all woven together, lined on either side with wooden posts for support. It ain't gonna hold forever, but maybe it'll hold long enough.

"And… break!"

At Aaron's cry, the shields and spears split in two, the archers drawing and releasing a litany of arrows into the horde. Ain't no going back now. I whirl the morning star and swing. Again. And again. Over and over. Anyone who ever said war is an organized sport was full of shit. War is chaos and I ain't aware of much outside the swing of my own weapon and the people on either side of me at any given point until someone's yelling.

"The fence isn't gonna hold!"

Before we can do shit about that, though, large sacks made of skin arc through the air, bursting open on impact like water balloons, showering us all with something wet and sticky.

"Smells like a Christmas tree!" Jerry shouts.

Pine sap. I know what this is. My dad used it all the time, camping. A flaming arrow sails across the horde, landing on the fence, which ignites immediately, setting fire to one of our men.

"It's like gasoline!" Jerry cries, horrified.

"Get ready to fall back!" Aaron commands.

No one moves. They're all frozen, I think realizing just how in over our heads we are, staring at the walkers now forcing their way through the fence.

"Back inside!" I roar, waving everyone towards the gates. "Come on!"

"Come on!" Aaron hollers. "Retreat! Go, go, go!"

We're running, all of us hauling ass as fast as we can to the gates, but before we reach our last vestige of safety, more flame-tipped arrows fly overhead and the walls go up, engulfed almost entirely in a matter of seconds.

*Adrienne's POV*

It was stupid of me to hope even for a second, no matter how fleeting, that the horde wasn't being led to Hilltop. It was even more foolish of me to think they'd have time to evacuate and dumber still to think there was a chance in hell they'd run from this fight. I can hear them now, voices shouting to be heard over the roar of the horde, and I've become so impatient my  _ teeth  _ itch. I want to run to them, join my people on our side of the battlefield and fight until we can't anymore. This is  _ my _ place, these are  _ my _ people, brave and resilient and too goddamn stubborn to just roll over. If we're dying tonight, I wanna die with them. With my boots on the ground, blood in my teeth. But I don't think I have enough fight left in me to run, I don't think there's much of  _ me _ left at all.

Then the wall bursts into flames and something stirs in me, a fury so complete and all encompassing I feel it splintering my bones. This is  _ my  _ place.

*Daryl's POV*

"Daryl."

Aaron's pawing at me, desperately trying to get me to move. It's a lost cause. What's left of the fence ain't gonna hold much longer, we got fire at our backs, walkers everywhere else, and Aaron called it. We gotta move before they break through, but I can't, I can't, I can't. I can't fall back, I can't retreat, I can't fucking  _ breathe. _ I'm choking on sobs, trying to find the strength to even remain upright, vision swimming, but I can see enough.

_ She will walk with my horde. _

"Daryl, she's dead!" Aaron cries through his own tears. "She's… we have to go!"

I can't leave her here. I told myself not to hope I'd see her again, alive. I knew, I  _ knew _ this was a possibility, that the likelihood of her surviving the collapse was… I knew, but I wasn't ready, I wasn't  _ ready  _ to see her staggering toward me, head bowed, bloody and stumbling and… I ain't ready, I don't wanna let her go, I don't… I have to put her down. I promised myself I'd do it for her. I swallow the grief, the tears, try to turn it all off, and take a step towards her.

Then her head snaps up.

"Holy  _ shit, _ " Jerry breathes.

Both her knives are out, flashing, and she's whirling around, ducking, dodging, bodies dropping at her feet as she works her way through the herd, enraged and very much alive. She's close enough I can see her face now, flames dancing in narrowed eyes, reflecting off of tear-stained cheeks, teeth bared. She looks like  _ wrath, _ like some kind of vengeful revenant, and I almost think I made her up. Almost.

"Clear a path!" I roar, hurling myself at the walkers pushing in against the fence, swinging the morningstar into skull after skull, knocking them aside.

"Archers!" Aaron commands. "Forward! And… fire! Spears!"

Any semblance of order falls, everyone throwing themselves back into battle, abandoning the system and devolving into one big free-for-all skirmish, Adie's sudden return from the dead igniting something in us, and together we manage to clear the walkers and Whisperers from her path in just seconds. Rosita and I grab hold of her hands the moment she reaches the fence, hoisting her over to our side where she belongs, and I crush her to my chest.

"I thought you were one of 'em," I sob into her neck before releasing her.

"I know," she murmurs, cradling my face in her hands, thumbing my tears away.

Under other circumstances, I'd have time to do this proper, time to look at her and fucking  _ marvel  _ at the sheer fact of her existence, but not now.

We got a war to win.

*Adrienne's POV*

We used to see in the news, back before the turn, these incredible stories about mothers lifting cars off of children pinned beneath tires or people fighting off bears and surviving. Hysterical strength, they call it. An adrenaline rush. Miracles. Whatever the hell it is, I can feel it coursing through my veins, a crackling current just beneath my skin. It's the same rage I felt the day my father sent a tank through our fences, the same despair that once hung heavy in a sewer drain while the ground shook and a brave boy in an old Sheriff's hat inched towards death. I'm not gonna be able to hold on forever, but I can hold on a little longer. I can fight one more fight.

"We gotta jam 'em up!" Daryl hollers, taking out walkers right and left with a weapon whose name I can't remember right now and am therefore calling a danger lasso.

The horde breached the fence, forcing us to retreat into the dubious safety of our crumbling walls, but the walkers followed, knocking the gates off the hinges and continuing to pour inside. It's chaos. We're scattered, some of us still outside the walls, picking them off before they make it inside, some desperately attempting to keep the fire from burning all the way through the walls, and still more of us darting around the yard, taking out walkers as we come across them. Daryl's right. We need to use whatever we've got, and right now what we've got is corpses. Plenty of 'em. Me, Daryl, Rosita, Eugene, and a few of the others start criss crossing the yard, dropping walkers and Whisperers where they stand, creating a barricade of bodies just inside the gates.

"It's workin'!" Daryl cries. "They're slowin' down."

It  _ is  _ working. Until something else explodes and we whip around just in time to see a section of wall topple.

*Daryl's POV*

"Wall's down!" I snarl, tearing across the yard towards the breach. "Follow me!"

Rosita and Adie are right behind me, I dunno where the hell Eugene went, but we don't make it too far before we're caught inside another throng of walkers. They're launching more sap bombs, starting more fires. Adie's staring around, glassy-eyed and horror-stricken, as cries of retreat sound around us. It's lost. Hilltop is lost. But that don't mean we gotta be.

"Daryl, we-"

Whatever Adie's trying to say is cut short, a violent fit of coughs erupting from her throat instead. She claps a hand over her mouth, stifling herself, coming away with a blood-spattered palm.

"We have to run," she whispers.

She sways on her feet and collapses.


	29. Worth The Risk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: brief references to past miscarriage

**Chapter 29**

*Adrienne's POV*

"Adie."

The voice is faint, muffled like I'm underwater, but I'd recognize it anywhere in time and space. I want to respond, give him something, but I'm floating around somewhere in the ether, tiptoeing the tightrope strung between bodiless oblivion and cognizance.

"Adie, please."

Something cold splashes across my face and I'm cruelly thrust back into my body. I spring upright with a start, eyes flying open and then shut again, immediately rebelling against the bright light of early morning. I feel like I got hit by a freightliner. I crack my eyes open just a hair, squinting around to get my bearings once I've acclimated to the sun enough to see where we are.

"Shh, shh…" Daryl soothes, one rough, calloused hand gently smoothing my hair back, the other wiping my face with the damp corner of his bandana. "I got you."

We're in a field I recognize as one of the sites along the route to the emergency rendezvous point Jesus and I picked out years ago in the event we needed to evacuate. We've never had to use it. Rosita, Jerry, Nabila, Dianne, and a few others are clustered around where I sit in the grass, Daryl crouched beside me, all eyeing me with concern. They look like shit, all covered in soot, and it's clear from the look on Nabila's face she's in pain, so I'm not real sure why the hell they're all looking at me like I'm gonna drop dead at any moment. I clear my throat, intent on asking them, but before I can put together a coherent sentence, the air disturbs the static in my lungs, sending me into a bout of dry, hacking coughs. I lean to one side and spit, blood splattering onto the ground next to me. That's not good.

"I'm fine," I croak, patting Daryl's hand reassuringly.

"She's dehydrated," Rosita sighs, crouching down and pressing an open canteen to my mouth.

My first instinct is to push it away, tell her to save it, but then water touches my lips and I'm overcome with an intense thirst, unable to refuse the soothing cool welling in my belly. Daryl's still staring at the blood in the grass, stricken.

"What's wrong with her?" He questions, voice breaking.

"She's gonna be fine," Rosita assures him wearily. "Coughing blood... she's probably got a pulmonary contusion, consistent with blast injuries."

I'm too exhausted to give a shit that they're talking about me like I'm not literally right next to them. Sure, it's a little annoying, being coddled, but really I'm too tired to fuss about it. I force my lips from the canteen, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and nodding to signal I'm finished hogging the resources.

"What the hell's that mean?" Daryl demands.

"Bruising in the lungs," Rosita announces, straightening up and twisting the cap onto the canteen while Daryl helps me to my feet. "It means she's probably not gonna die," she eyes me appraisingly. "Does your chest hurt?"

"No more 'n anything else," I shrug, wincing.

"You're probably gonna be sore for a couple weeks," safe nods. "But shit like this usually heals on its own. Let's keep moving."

She gestures for Daryl and me to lead the way, falling into step behind us, and no one bothers asking how the hell she knows about blast injuries and pulmonary whatevers because we're all thinking about Siddiq. Of course she knows. Daryl and I exchange a glance and I can see the question in his eyes. He won't ask, not now and maybe not even next time we're alone, not out loud, but I know he wants to ask about the baby, if… if we still have one. I wish I knew. I slip my hand into his and squeeze. 

*Daryl's POV*

"I don't… I don't know if they made it out."

Adie's just finished recounting what happened in the cave for Rosita and Jerry. She ain't seen Magna or Connie since she got out, but they were alive last time she did see them. Ain't nothin' we can do for 'em now except trust they can take care of themselves a few more days until we can get a group out looking for 'em. I'm just grateful Adie's here. She got out. Nothin' matters more to me and I don't give a shit how selfish that is.

Pulmonary contusion. I didn't know you could bruise your fucking _lungs._ Seeing her last night, thinking she was dead and then she was alive and then thinking she was dead again… the shock still ain't worn off. And she keeps looking at me like she's worried about me, like she can feel the anxiety in my guts churning in hers, too. I'm scared shitless. I'm scared for the kids, I'm scared maybe no one else got out, I'm scared 'cause Rosita said _probably._ Adie _probably_ won't die. But she still could. She could die. It's that same thought that sparked in me the need to run away all them years ago, leave before I had to watch it happen, but now… Jesus Christ, what if she'd died while I wasn't around, what if she got bit? What if she fell and broke her neck or drowned or got struck by lightning or just dropped dead for no reason at all and I _wasn't_ _there?_

That scares me more than anything. We ain't invincible, although Adie I think is pretty goddamned close. We're gonna die. She's gonna die. That ain't something I can negotiate or ignore. She  _ will _ die. And I'll be damned if it's gonna be 'cause I ain't there, doing everything I can to protect her. And if she goes before I do, I'm gonna keep fighting until it's my time and I'll see her when I get there. I know she don't believe in god or heaven or nothin', but I can't imagine going through all this shit just to be dirt in the end. There's gotta be something after and I know, I  _ know…  _ she's gonna be there. If she ain't, I'll know I'm in hell.

"Hey," she murmurs, bumping her elbow against mine, waiting until my eyes slide to hers before speaking again. "We're alive."

She's smiling and it don't matter she's covered in soot and walker guts and blood and days and days of grime, that she's exhausted, sick… she's the fucking sun. We're alive. We still got time. I ain't gonna waste it.

"Nabila's been asking about her kids," Rosita says softly, falling into step beside me, glancing furtively over her shoulder at the worried mother. "You sure Ezekiel has them?"

"They should be at the rendezvous," I mutter.

Should be. Don't mean they are. Nah, they gotta be. Ezekiel or somebody else, somebody had to have gotten the kids out. They'll be there.

*Adrienne's POV*

When we finally reach the safehouse, my heart sinks. No one's here. No one alive, anyway. Just one walker, which Dianne puts down while Daryl sprints into the old, dilapidated rambler. He was so sure they'd be here.

"This is the spot, right?" Rosita demands when he emerges, dejected.

"Yeah," I confirm, tears welling in my eyes. "Me and Jesus picked this place, they all know to come here if… we did drills. They should've been here."

"My babies?" Nabila cries, hysteria bubbling from her lips. "Where are my babies?!" She starts to sob, she and Jerry clinging to each other. "No, where are my babies?"

"Nabila," Jerry attempts to soothe her, despite the panic I'm sure is welling in his own guts. "They're with Ezekiel, all right? They're with the king, they're with the king."

"We have to go back," I murmur, eyeing Nabila with concern. "We-"

"Bullshit," Rosita says sharply. " _ We, _ " she points to herself, then Daryl. "Are going back.  _ You _ need to stay here and rest. You're exhausted-"

"We're  _ all  _ tired, Rosita," I point out. "I'm fi-"

"If you say the words  _ 'I'm fine'  _ again, I'm-"

"I'm  _ fine, _ " I finish defiantly, Rosita rolling her eyes with a scoff.

"You have not  _ slept, _ " she hisses. "You have not  _ eaten,  _ you're  _ hurt, _ and you cannot just go."

I turn to Daryl, silently begging him to back me up.

"No, she's right," he says, frustration lacing his voice. "You ain't in any condition."

"None-"

"You especially," he holds up a hand, having anticipated what my argument would be before the words had even fully formed in my own head. "It doesn't always need to be you. If they're out there, I'll find 'em."

"Daryl…" I trail off, raking a hand through my hair. "I don't wanna just  _ sit  _ here when we got people missin'."

"Then don't sit."

I shoot him a withering glare that does absolutely nothing to change his mind.

"I jus' got you back," he says quietly, softening just slightly, seemingly unable to help the tears pricking his eyes. "Stay. Please."

I sigh, nodding defeatedly, and wrap my arms around his waist.

"Be safe," I murmur into his neck.

"I will," he promises. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

"Come on, spread out," he instructs, turning to the rest of the group. "Come on, let's go."

*Daryl's POV*

I didn't wanna leave her, but I'm glad Adie ain't here to see this. Hilltop is destroyed, coated in ashes, ruins still smoldering, thick, white smoke clouding the air like fog. I know she ain't stupid, she knows, but knowing and seeing are two different things. It would crush her. She loved this place. Jerry and I are picking our slow way through the debris on the ground when something starts moving beneath a couple sheets of corrugated metal that used to be part of a trailer. My heart sinks. I'm sure it's another walker. We've already put down several of our own who didn't make it, I ain't sure I can take much more of this. Then a familiar set of grey dreadlocks emerge, the man they belong to coughing and wheezing and alive. Jerry scurries forward, helping Ezekiel to his feet.

"Jerry," he croaks, eyes darting frantically around. "The kids… Earl's got the kids!"

He grabs Jerry by the shoulder and takes off running, leading us around a section of Hilltop's wall that's still standing and into the woods just east of the colony. I know this place. There's a cabin back here. I stayed the night once after making a trade with Jesus, too tired to bother with going home just yet. It's secluded enough and if Earl and the kids made it here, they're safe. They gotta be. The three of us stop a few yards from the door, Jerry and Ezekiel rooting themselves where they stand, and I try to prepare myself for what I might see when I walk inside. An empty building. A room full of dead kids I was supposed to protect. Walkers. I pull one of my knives from its sheath and push the old, rusted door open.

"Daryl!" Aliyah, one of Jerry's and Nabila's kids, cries before catching sight of her dad, she and her siblings hurtling out of the cabin and into his arms.

"Hey, hi," I greet each kid as they filter outside.

They're here. They're here and they're safe and alive and I don't know what the hell any of us ever did to deserve it, but it's a fucking miracle.

"Hi, buddy," I murmur, crouching to catch RJ in my arms as he hurls himself at my chest. "Alright. Alright. Is Judith in there?"

He nods, then sprints away, joining the rest of the kids clustered around Jerry and Ezekiel. I get to my feet, peering inside warily. 

"Judith?" I call softly, stepping into the cabin, shoving aside some crocheted throw blankets hanging from the ceiling like curtains, glancing around the room, piecing the scene together.

A table with a bloody railroad spike stuck to the top, Earl's lifeless body lying prone on the floor, and Judith. She's leaned up against the wall near Earl's body, knees pulled to her chest, eyes closed, crimson stained mini katana in her small hands. She looks so much older than she is, like she's carrying the weight of worlds on her shoulders, and she ain't crying. Maybe that makes it sadder, the lack of tears where there should be. I cross over to her, gently taking the blade from her hand and dropping down to sit beside her.

"Come here," I murmur, putting an arm out so she can nestle into my side.

She's quiet and she still ain't crying and it breaks my heart. It'd kill Rick, seeing his baby like this, and I know he'd know what to say to bring her back. I don't. So I just hold her and hope it's enough.

*Adrienne's POV*

I snap back into consciousness with a start. I hadn't meant to fall asleep. God, that's stupid. You don't sleep until it's safe. I know better. After Daryl and the others left, I'd coaxed Nabila inside, convinced her to let me help her with her burns. We'd stashed emergency supplies here, just the basics. First aid, cans, water. The basics are enough as long as we've still got each other, a fact which solidified in my mind when Daryl and Jerry returned with the kids and Ezekiel. For all her talk about how I should be resting, Rosita's pretty banged up. She fought Beta. That's why she was at Hilltop, to see Alex. She's been filling me in, between my unintentional naps, bringing me up to speed.

Daryl's gone to find Lydia, despite also having almost died when he tangled with Alpha a few days ago. But he'd made up his mind and when Daryl decides he's doing a thing he's damn well gonna do it and no one's gonna tell him otherwise. I wanted to go, too. Help him look for her. He wouldn't hear of it, telling me to stay here with Judith and RJ, promising he'd be back  _ 'soon',  _ knowing that's a promise he can't necessarily keep. Falling in love in this world is the most wonderfully tragic thing because... we can die. But we're not dead yet and I intend to be wonderfully, tragically,  _ utterly _ in love for as long as we're allowed to live and maybe even after that, too.

"Hey," Jerry blurts, drawing me back into the conversation around me. "The kids are good. All of 'em."

He's not speaking to me, his gaze resting upon the king. Daryl had made a deal with Ezekiel before the battle. If either of them went down during the fight, the other was supposed to get the kids. That's not exactly how things played out and I think they're both feeling some guilt over that. I think that's part of why Daryl's so eager to find Lydia. I think maybe in his mind, saving her will make up for his failure to protect everyone else. He still doesn't think he's enough. As much as he's changed over the years, that fact is still true.

"We got lucky," Ezekiel says bitterly.

"Yeah," Jerry agrees. "I'll take it."

"That doesn't absolve me from failing," Ezekiel mutters.

"You didn't," I pipe up from my perch in the armchair opposite him, his eyes sliding to mine. "You're givin' yourself too much credit."

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Ezekiel questions flatly, unamused.

"Look," I sigh. "We've lost so much and… and there's a lotta blame to go around. You don't get to just  _ hog _ it all like that. Share the wealth."

"Take it easy on yourself, Boss," Jerry grins.

Ezekiel chuckles almost despite himself, shaking his head disparagingly.

"Hey," I murmur, looking around the room, eyes welling with gratitude. "We've had worse days. Our  _ kids _ are safe. We _ won. _ "

"These days, the mistakes seem to stick harder than the triumphs."

Before Jerry or I can offer Ezekiel any other words of comfort, the front door opens, signalling the arrival of more survivors. When Magna, Yumiko, and Eugene file through that doorway, it's like seeing a ghost. I leap to my feet, bound across the room, and pull Magna into a hug. She clings to me, the two of us dissolving into sobs. I don't know what changed between us in those caves, but we're bound to each other now. Maybe that's just what happens when you get blown up together.

"Connie?" I question, pulling away to look at her.

"We got separated," she breathes, tears slipping down her cheeks. "After we lost you, I…"

She trails off, but she doesn't need to finish. I get it. I'd gone nearly out of my mind when I realized I'd lost them and I was alone with the dead. But we made it. Maybe Connie did, too. I don't have a chance to articulate any of that, though, because Jerry's pushing past me to gather the other dead woman in his arms.

"You're alive," he beams, twinkling eyes flickering from her face to mine and back again. "Where, where… how did you…"

"This crazy bitch," Magna chuckles, gently bumping her shoulder against mine.

"I'm so sorry, Magna," Jerry murmurs, tears in his eyes. "And you, Adie, I…"

"It wasn't your fault, Jer," I assure him for the hundredth time. "All right?"

"Did you, either of you, did you need anything?" He blurts, turning away from Magna to glance over his shoulder like he's got a wait staff hidden behind him or something, ready to tend to our needs. "Do, do, do you-"

"No, no, no," Magna soothes, pulling him back around to face her. "I, I'm okay. I'm okay."

Jerry seems to accept this readily enough, leaving me to accept hugs from Eugene and Yumiko while Magna makes the rounds I'd been subjected to already. You come back from the dead and suddenly you're everyone's favorite person who ever lived, bar none. God, I hope Connie made it. There's almost no chance we'll be able to track her from that cave, not with all the prints from the walkers, even with Daryl's skills. After Magna's finished receiving all the extra love, she collapses into a seat beside me.

"So," she huffs, exhaustion written all over her face. "How's mini Dixon?"

It's not the most sensitive way to go about asking and it takes me by surprise, a slightly hysterical giggle bubbling from my lips.

"I'm, uh…" I sigh, sobering. "I'm not bleedin' or anything so far, so…"

"Well, I'd say that's a pretty damn good sign," she murmurs, offering me a tired little smile and draping her arm over my shoulders.

"Excuse me, uh…" Eugene says loudly.

"I hope so," I whisper, eyes on Eugene as he moves to the head of the room.

"Uh, excuse me," he repeats, waiting for the idle chatter to die down. "Uh… can, can I have your kind attention, please? Um… I have some things I… I need to fess and request. Um…" he sighs. "I've been in radio communicado with someone outside our orbit. A new person. And we set up a time to meet."

"What?" Yumiko demands. "Who is it?"

"Uh, her name is Stephanie, and-"

"Wait, is this another community?" Magna questions, getting to her feet to stand beside Yumiko.

"Where is it?" Jerry asks. "What-"

"What'd you tell her about us?" Nabila finishes for him.

"And now you're going to meet her," Dianne says dubiously, her eyes flickering to mine. "Are you okay with this?"

The question throws me for a second. I'm not a leader anymore, I'm not even on the Council at Alexandria, but Dianne and now several others are looking to me for my opinion like it matters.

"She could be another spy, just like Dante," Magna points out when I say nothing.

"Uh…" Eugene stammers, nervous out of his wits.

Oh, hell. He's pissing his pants scared. He's dying out there.

"Okay," I soothe, getting to my feet and joining the poor bastard at the head of the room. "How about we all just simmer down and let the man speak, huh?"

"With all due respect, Adrienne, this doesn't really concern you, now, does it?" Yumiko says sharply, her eyes never leaving Eugene's face. "Eugene, how long have you been keeping this from us?"

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" I demand, bristling.

"Look, you don't live at Hilltop and haven't for quite some time," Yumiko sighs. "What Eugene's done doesn't directly impact Alexandria. I need to know who these people are,  _ where  _ they are, and what they know about us."

"I have some of the same questions," Ezekiel announces, getting to his feet and placing a calming hand on my shoulder, probably picking up on my less than fuzzy feelings towards Yumiko right this moment, before turning his attention to Eugene. "But if Eugene's instincts are that this… Stephanie… may be a new ally, then let's hear him out before we jump to conclusions," he regards us all sternly. "We're all on the same side here."

The room settles, everyone stifling their arguments while Eugene continues, bolstered by Ezekiel's support.

"Now, some of you are well aware that I relocated to Hilltop, uh… in pursuit of a metaphorical fresh start," he sighs, voice trembling. "Uh, I struggled for a while. I buried myself in work and community duties, and… and that work manifested a voice from the void, and…" he shakes his head, smiling nervously. "She became a friend. Some of you might claim that I'm foolish to believe in future friends and new alliances, but… after everything we just lost, I'm willin' to be the fool."

Holy shit. He  _ likes _ this girl. I shoot a glance at Rosita, raising a quizzical eyebrow, and she nods, lips twitching at the corners. I'll be damned.

"I simply ask that you spare me your derision, as a hopeful expectation of new,  _ good  _ people is wholly worth the risk," Eugene finishes with a nod.

Okay, then. Eugene, Ezekiel, and, surprisingly enough, Yumiko are gonna head out, meet up with Stephanie. I hope she checks out. Eugene deserves a little happiness, too.

*Daryl's POV*

It didn't take near as long as I thought it was gonna to find Lydia's trail. Another thing I didn't expect were the boot prints walking in tandem with hers. I thought the only person still missing, the only person desperate enough to take Lydia was Carol. She's already proven she don't give a shit about nothin' but seeing Alpha's head on a spike. Why not use Alpha's only real weakness against her? All the pieces fit, both of 'em missing, the bullshit Carol's been pulling, it all fits except… the prints are too big to be Carol's. Still, I follow them to a small, abandoned shack, trudging up the porch steps with some trepidation, and try the door.

It's unlocked, swinging open with ease to reveal an empty room. Well, not empty. There's a wooden chair in the middle of the room, surrounded by scuff marks and old, frayed ropes. She was held here, fought her way out of the binds.

"Oh, damn it!" I hiss, tearing back outside to check for another trail.

She didn't leave one. There's nothing here. She covered her tracks, so she must've been alone when she left. Didn't want nobody following her. So whoever the hell them other prints belong to is coming back. I go back inside and wait.

-

Ain't too long before the weathered wooden floorboards of the porch creak under a new set of feet. I station myself behind some exposed beams, flattening my back against the wall, crossbow loaded and ready to fire.

"Hey, kiddo."

Son of a bitch. The door swings open, Negan strolling inside. Surprised to see he ain't wearing a skin.

"Sorry about…" he trails off when he sees the empty chair. "Shit."

I spring from my hiding place, hurling a fist at his face, and before he's recovered from the hit I'm staring down my crossbow at him.

"God," he groans, holding his jaw.

"Where's Alpha?" I demand.

"Look," he says, raising his hands in surrender. "Whatever Lydia told you-"

"Where is she?!" I roar, bolt aimed to run him right through.

"She is dead," he insists. "She is dead, I killed her."

"You liar," I growl.

"I am not lyin'," he sighs. "I have somethin' in my pocket. It's  _ not  _ a weapon. I am slowly gonna reach for it."

His hand disappears into his jacket, emerging with Alpha's mask clutched in his fingers.

"Her mask ain't her head," I spit.

"Oh, I know," he says desperately, a pleading note to his voice. "I am gettin' to that."

"Well, then, get to it," I command, bumping the bottom of his chin with my bow.

"The whole reason I threw in with them… was so I could get close enough to Alpha to slit her throat. Now, you talk about silencing the Whisperers. I silenced the Alpha. Why the hell else you think that your  _ mother in law  _ let me outta that cell?"

My mother in law? Oh… oh, god damn it. Carol. She wants Alpha's head on a spike. So where the hell is it?

-

"You know, this whole follow the leader routine, it's kinda déjà vu for me."

We ain't been walking an hour yet and it's taking all I got in me not to put a bolt in him and call it a day. I hold my tongue, clenching my jaw so tight it feels like my back teeth are gonna shatter. Negan always did like to hear himself talk and I guess even weaponless, hands tied at his back, he still feels the need to chatter.

"It's the same way it went down with Alpha," he continues, offering me a sidelong glance with his excuses. "You know, I get it. All right, you're pissed your gal pal didn't let you in on the plan."

"Nobody asked you," I mutter.

"Look, I'm pissed, too," he sighs. "Lone wolves, they're not thinkin' about the pack."

"Maybe I'm pissed 'cause of Hilltop," I snap, annoyed 'cause he knows shit he ain't got business knowing. "Whole buncha children almost died 'cause of you."

He sighs regretfully, stopping in his tracks, turning to me with sorrowful eyes. I don't buy it. Not for a goddamn second. I grab his shoulder and shove him back into motion.

"Keep walkin'."

He's finally quiet, marching dutifully ahead of me, leaving me to my own thoughts. Of course I'm pissed she didn't let me in on the plan. She's been lying and sneaking around and it's bullshit. Lone wolf, my ass. Impulsive, psycho wolf the rest of the pack almost died trying to save from itself, maybe. Then again, maybe this is my fault. Maybe she is a lone wolf and that's why she liked it out on the boat so much, just her and the ocean and the stars. Maybe I shouldn't've asked her to stay. Jesus, and Adie almost died 'cause of her. I don't know what the hell I'd've done if… but she didn't. She's okay and, at least as far as we can figure, our baby's still okay, too. I ain't having our kid come into a world with Whisperers in it. The sooner this trip is over, the better.

We're walking for hours, all afternoon and into the night, before we reach the spot. A single spike in the middle of an otherwise empty field. There's just one problem.

"It was right here," Negan insists, staring at the headless spike. "I swear to god, it was on that  _ spike. _ "

He just wasted an whole fucking day I could've spent looking for Lydia. The  _ entire _ goddamn day. I raise my crossbow, aiming square at the back of his head.

"Look, we, uh…" he continues, oblivious. "We, we sit here, we wait for Carol. Or I can take you to find the-" he turns around, face to face with a bolt. "Oh, come on, man. We're talkin' about  _ Lydia,  _ here. Why would I stash her out in banjo country unless the whole point was to keep her safe, unless the whole  _ fucking  _ point was just to use her as bait so I could get Alpha alone?"

"You sure took your sweet ass time, though, didn't you?" I point out.

"What is with you guys thinkin' I didn't do it fast enough?" He gripes. " _ You  _ didn't kill her.  _ I  _ did. It took a minute, I had to get her to trust me. Because I wasn't on some half-cocked suicide mission."

"Nah," I counter. "It's because you  _ liked  _ it."

He don't got nothin' to say to that 'cause he knows it's the fucking truth, but before I can inform him of any of that, I hear the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking just behind me. I glance over my shoulder and, sure enough, there's skins. Three of 'em. I sigh, dropping my crossbow defeatedly, and raise my hands.

"Alpha's dead," Gun Whisperer announces, eyeing Negan through his mask. "Because of you. We kneel… to the new Alpha."

The other two Whisperers drop, each taking a knee, and bow their heads in subservience. Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry it took so long to get this chapter up after such a mean cliff hanger! You can yell at me if you wish, I won't even get mad. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and as always, thank you so much for reading!


	30. No Room For Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: multiple mentions of past miscarriage.
> 
> REGULAR WARNING: contains smut.

**Chapter 30**

"Oh," Negan sighs happily, watching his skin freak friends pat me down. "Sorry, man. I am, uh… just savorin' the moment."

Yeah, I'm sure. Probably loving this right now, seeing me tied up and outnumbered, rain soaking me through, slicking my hair to my face. Ain't a box, but maybe this is almost as good for him.

"Oh," he huffs, snatching up Alpha's mask from the ground. "Takin' my  _ sweet ass  _ time. All right, fellas, first order of fuckin' business," he pauses, eyeing his bitches in waiting, gaze settling on the one holding the gun. "Wait, wait, wait, wait. One damn minute. I'm supposed to be the Alpha, right? I mean, the only reason I'm askin' is I'm a little bit confused. If I'm the Alpha, why is someone who is most definitely  _ not  _ the Alpha holdin' the badass shotgun?"

I almost feel sorry for the sumbitch as he scurries forward, proffering the gun without a moment's hesitation. Alpha fucked these people up, made 'em all confused. Ain't no way to live. Still, I don't feel that bad. I'm the one standing here tied up so Negan can prove a fucking point. He ain't gonna kill me.

"See, that is what I'm talkin' about," he grins, hefting the shotgun. "That feels good. Right? I mean, I never had a kid of my own, but… if I did, I would imagine this is what it's like holdin' your baby for the very first time, except for it turns out,  _ my  _ baby can kill people by spittin' bullets at 'em!"

He's looking at me like he's waiting for me to cry or yell at him or some shit, like he knows exactly what he's doing with the whole baby bullshit, how much it hurts pressing on that button. He knows I never got to hold my baby. Ain't no way in hell he knows Adie's pregnant again. How the fuck would he? I ain't giving this prick shit, though.

"Daryl," he smirks. "Kneel to the Alpha."

I fuckin' hate him. I hate him as much today as I always have, as much as I did the first time he made me kneel to him. I don't give a shit what he's done, killing Alpha, saving Lydia… I ain't never not gonna hate him. The men on either side of me grab hold of my shoulders and try to force me down, but I shake 'em off, my eyes boring into Negan's, unwavering, as I sink to my knees.

" _ Damn, _ " he chuckles gleefully. "It is startin' to get real now, ain't it? Daryl, you were right when you said that I  _ liked _ it. The fact is…" he sighs, raising the gun, pointing it right between my eyes. "I like it a lot."

"You should probably shoot me," I growl.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," he simpers.

He whips the gun to the side and fires into the furthest Whisperer, who drops to the ground instantly. I kick the legs out from under one of my captors, hurling my clasped hands at his face, while the other moves in on Negan. Seems the gun's jammed up or only had the one shot, 'cause Negan don't fire again. Damn it. I don't wanna save his ass. It don't matter. By the time I've managed to scramble to my feet, Negan's plunged a knife into the last Whisperer's skull. I just stare at him and he stares back and it hits me… he just saved me. Oh, Jesus Christ, that pisses me the fuck off. I sigh, thrusting my arms out toward him.

"Untie me, asshole."

-

"Not to spin a broken record," Negan sighs, passing the canteen we've been sharing -to my utter dismay- back to me. "But I don't think she's comin' back."

Sun's been up long enough to dry the rain now. We've been sitting here on this fuckin' log all goddamn night long, facing opposite directions, waiting for Carol to show up. He's been trying to coax me into leaving since the sky first started turning light, suggesting we swing by the safehouse, pick up  _ 'Mrs. Daryl and the rugrats', _ head on home. I've been ignoring him. He'll shut up for another hour, maybe, then try again. He told me Carol just walked off, said she needed to be alone, didn't say how long she was gonna be. I guess I'm stubborn or just too damn stupid to give up on her yet, even after everything, or maybe I just don't wanna do what Negan says.

"You know, I'm… I'm not bullshittin' you," he continues.

"I know," I mutter.

"When I said that I liked it… that wasn't part of the act."

"Yeah," I spit bitterly. "I know."

"You know, when your people locked me up, I lost everything," he murmurs. "I was just waiting for the day the Widow came knockin', waiting for her to waste me, and that day came and she wouldn't do it. Your little... red-headed harbinger of death, though, she might've gotten the job done if she'd've come on her own," he sighs heavily. "I didn't know she lost a ba-"

"Don't," I interrupt flatly.

I don't wanna hear him apologize for shit. I don't want him talking like he knows shit about what he took from us, not just me and Adie. I don't wanna think about how maybe it ain't all his fault, neither, 'cause the truth is… we fired the first shots when we cleared that outpost for Hilltop. He was retaliating. It don't make it right. But we weren't right, neither, not all the way, and I know that now. I thought about it a lot after Rick… when I was alone. We ain't always the good guys. We can't be, not in this world, not anymore.

"You know," Negan says quietly after a moment. "Seven years spent starin' out that little window… man, it fuckin' sucked. It got so bad that even my memories had bars painted on 'em. So when Alpha took me in… I admit it, I… I liked it. It was… it was nice feeling like I mattered again, like I was respected."

I don't wanna feel sorry for this asshole. I still think he should've died that day on the hill where Rick spared him. I don't care if he just saved my ass. I don't think he can ever do enough to undo what he did to Abraham and to Glenn, what he did to me in that box. He don't get to just kill Alpha for Carol and pretend to be the hero.

"But she took it too far," he continues. "You don't kill people that don't deserve it. And you  _ never  _ kill kids."

"Is that supposed to make me like you?" I demand.

"No."

"Good."

"But what about my winning personality?"

Fuck this. She ain't coming back and I'm goddamn tired of listening to Negan talk. I heave myself off the log, not really giving a shit if he follows or not, and head out. My  _ little harbinger of death _ is gonna be wondering where the hell I'm at. Wish I didn't know she'd have laughed at the name.

"What about Carol?" Negan questions, still seated.

I don't bother answering and I hear him fall into step behind me a few seconds later. God, they're gonna love this. Adie, Rosita, Aaron… one or more of 'em are gonna wanna kill Negan on sight and I'm gonna have to  _ vouch _ for him. How the fuck did we get here?

*Adrienne's POV*

Carol let Negan out. Negan killed Alpha, then he saved Daryl. I don't know what the hell to think anymore. It's not like I had time to process, either, because the moment Daryl returned, Negan in tow, we were ready to pack up and leave the safehouse. We hauled ass straight home to Alexandria and got ready. Lydia came back and so did Carol. We radioed Oceanside and got an evac plan together, left that night. We've all been holed up at what used to be Inova Fairfax Hospital. It's little more than a crumbling ruin now, just like everywhere else, so we've dubbed it The Tower. Visibility in all directions, high ground, easy to defend. Easy to stay hidden. I don't like it, hiding, but... it's our best shot. We took out a lot of the horde, but walkers aren't exactly hard to come by and Beta's gonna be bringing some vengeance our way. He'll hit Alexandria first. When he finds it abandoned, he'll move on to Oceanside. That's where this ends.

"You all right?"

I whip around, startled at Daryl's sudden appearance in the stairwell. We've been here two days and he's been hovering damn near the entire time. He's never been a hoverer before, or maybe I just never noticed it. I know it shouldn't irritate me, but it does. It makes me feel like a liability. He's so worried about keeping me safe, I'm scared he's gonna lose focus. It reminds me of the first time I was pregnant. We were at war then, too.

"What're you doin' out here?" He questions, sinking down beside me on the landing.

"I just…" I sigh, wrapping my arms protectively around myself. "I dunno, wanted to be alone for a little."

He nods quietly, shifting like he's just gonna jump right up and leave without another word.

"No," I blurt, reaching out and placing my hand over his knee. "No, I didn't mean… wantin' to be alone never includes you. Just... everybody else."

"You wanna be away from Carol, you mean."

I sigh and drop my head into my hands, glaring at the floor. I can't even look at Carol. I want to forgive her, but I can't. Me and Magna almost paid the price for what she did at the cave and Connie… Connie's still missing. I can only assume she's dead. Hilltop is gone and a good third of our fighters are dead or missing and for what? Nothing's better, nothing's changed, not really.

"Adie?" Daryl murmurs, putting an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close.

"A lotta people just died and they didn't have to," I point out quietly.

"I know."

We settle into silence, not even Daryl able to defend her anymore. His hand snakes down my arm and across my stomach, his palm coming to rest over my belly. If he had his way, I'd still be wearing armor. I don't need to, not here. We've got lookouts stationed throughout the tower, eyes in every direction, and anyway, Alden and Aaron are back home waiting to track the horde when it comes. They'll radio when it's moving. I'll have plenty of time to armor up before anything gets here. I'm not trying to be lazy or careless, but that shit is heavy and I'm fucking exhausted all the time now. I'm not wearing it again until I have to.

I remember this kind of tired from the first go around. I don't, however, remember the lightning in my skin. Daryl's touch always felt electric to me, always left me buzzing, but this… the warmth from his hand seeping beneath the worn fabric of my shirt and saturating me, the heat radiating from the point our bodies meet spreading through my being. Jesus Christ. I shift my weight, crossing my legs and leaning away against the cool wall. It doesn't help.

"What's wrong?" Daryl questions, brows furrowing in concern.

"Nothin'," I shrug, sounding a bit too forced to pull off the feigned nonchalance I was going for.

"Bullshit."

He's giving me that damn look he gets, squinting like he can see right through me, and I don't know what the hell comes over me, but it's like I'm gonna combust, like the pressure is just gonna open me up and spill me out like steam. Every time he touches me lately, no matter how innocent, I'm ready to explode. I grab the back of his head and pull him towards me, his lips crashing into mine. Hormones are fucking weird. He hesitates a moment before his mouth starts to move with mine and I can hear the gears in his head turning, trying to catch up, figure out how the hell we got here, making out in a dark stairwell like a couple of drunken college kids. I drop my hands, fumbling for his belt, and he tears his lips from mine. Before I can protest at the sudden loss of contact, he's dragging me up from my perch on the stairs and walking me across the landing, backing me against the wall. 

He's beautiful. It's like we're suspended in time, just looking at each other, and I still can't believe how fucking beautiful he is, even with his hair casting his time-worn face almost entirely in shadow. He's just as beautiful now as the day we met, maybe even more because of who he's become, and I can't help the tears welling in my eyes and slipping down my cheeks, I really can't, because I'm just so damn grateful to exist with him. I don't believe in soulmates. I don't believe in miracles. But I believe he's both. And he's mine. He thumbs my tears away with one hand, the other finding its way to my belt buckle as he presses soft kisses to my mouth.

I know I should probably raise objection to the idea of having sex in a stairwell, but being trapped between the wall and Daryl's body sends a frisson of excitement skittering up my spine. He tugs at my jeans, yanking them halfway down my thighs, and any vague notion of objecting at our location goes out the window when he works his thumb between my slick folds and slips a finger inside me, nipping at my neck. I don't want to be anywhere else. He grazes my clit with his thumb and I cry out, already so sensitive it's almost painful.

"Please," I whimper, circling my fingers around his wrist and rolling my hips backward, away from him. "Please, just…"

It's too much and not enough and I can't, I can't, I  _ cannot  _ be teased. I fumble for his belt, unfastening his buckle, then his button, and finally his zipper, his cock springing from his jeans while I attempt to wriggle out of mine. I manage to shimmy them down my legs, letting them bunch at my ankles, and kick a boot off, freeing one leg. Daryl grabs hold of my thighs, hoisting me up the wall like it's nothing, like lifting me is the easiest thing in the world, and I hook my bare leg around his waist, resting my arms over his shoulders, holding onto him while he slowly eases himself inside me, a soft, breathy moan escaping his lips.

God, it's so good, it's so good and I know I must look a mess, only the one boot on, jeans hanging off my leg, but I don't care, I never wanna leave this spot ever. He rocks in and out of me, our hips rolling in sync, our bodies pressed so tight together I could swear we're the same being, that whatever he's made of and whatever I'm made of, we're the same. It's like the first time again, this overwhelming sense of belonging, of understanding and being understood, and I know he's feeling it, too, because his lips are so gentle on mine, his rough hands gripping me so, so carefully. It's slow and sweet and perfect and I never did understand why they call it making love until Daryl and when I fall apart, he follows me over the edge, somehow finding words where my voice fails.

"I fuckin' love you, Adie," he pants, his breaths hot and heavy against my ear. "I love... I love you… I'm gon' love you forever."

*Daryl's POV*

"Don't go home."

I know I'm talking to Michonne and I know everyone else with a radio can hear me, but muttering shit aloud when there ain't no one else around will never not make me feel crazy. Adie wanted to be out here, patrol with me, but I don't want her leaving that tower 'til this thing is done. And anyway, I can't focus as easy when she's around anymore. Being pregnant's doing something weird to her. It's like she's… she's turned on all the time and I didn't even do nothin'. Torqued up, Rick would call it. She's gonna kill me. I'm probably gonna like it.

"You'll only find us if you answer me," I announce to the walkie in my hand. "We got a plan to end this. One I think you'd like. Man, bein' on the run like this, barely scrapin' by… reminds me of the old gang. Seems like ages now."

I wait, thinking maybe I'm talking too much, maybe she's just waiting for me to shut up so she can say something, but the radio remains stubbornly static.

"Michonne? Can you hear me? Michonne?"

Nothin'. That naval base must be just outta range. I'm trying not to worry about it, trying not to think about how maybe she ran into trouble, how maybe she ain't coming home, but it's hard. Makes me think of when Merle was in basic and I couldn't talk to him. He called home one time just to let me know he got there, left a mailing address just in case of emergency. I was still a kid, maybe 10 or so, and I thought about writing to him or something but I never did 'cause I didn't want him to write back, call me a pussy or whatever, or worse, not write back at all. I wanted him to think I was tough as him.

I tighten my grip on the walkie and keep on moving.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Here," Magna says, thrusting a bowl of stew into my hands. "You're eating for two, now. Gotta keep up your strength."

"God, that makes it sound like I have a tapeworm or some shit," I grumble, popping a spoonful into my mouth anyway. "Eatin' for two."

It's possum. Negan's been catching them, delivering them to a woman from Oceanside named Elaine to turn into something edible. I still don't know what the hell to think. This is all backwards. Daryl's the hunter, Carol's the chef. I'm… well, I don't know what the hell I am, but I'm not supposed to be cooped up in this place, putting bandaids on boo-boos and being coddled by everybody, while my husband's out there alone. Maybe it's selfish, maybe it's ungrateful, but all these people… I miss the old crew. I miss Rick and Glenn and Maggie and everybody, I miss how it used to be us against the world. I love these people and I'll die fighting for them if that's what it takes, but it doesn't feel the same since Rick died. It doesn't feel like family, not like it was. Those people from the beginning, they were my brothers and sisters, closer than close.

"That's disgusting," Magna chuckles.

"Hm?" I glance at her, confused.

"The tapeworm thing," she clarifies, regarding me curiously. "Are you okay? You seem distracted."

"Yeah, fine," I nod, chewing. "I'm fine, I'm just… I'm thinkin' about people I used to know back…"

"Back at the beginning of this shit show," she supplies when I trail off, at a loss.

"Yeah."

We fall into a comfortable silence, settling back against the wall and watching our people mill about. Luke's been messing with the stereo setup all morning, tweaking and building and rewiring. The role he's playing in all this is pivotal. We need to make a big noise. Whispering just isn't our style.

"What the hell's the mutt doing inside?" Magna demands suddenly, dragging my attention to where Carol sits, Dog panting happily at her feet.

I'd feel better if Dog was with Daryl, but he left him here to keep watch. He hears walkers before we can, barks up a storm to make sure we're ready.

"He's keeping the cats away," Carol insists, stroking his ears.

"Mostly," Magna simpers, pushing off the wall and loping away.

She can't forgive Carol yet, either. I stay, though, sliding down to the floor, my back resting against the wall, and holding out my now empty bowl for Dog to lick clean.

"How," Carol clears her throat, not quite looking me in the eyes. "How are you feeling?"

It's such a casual question. Something you would ask a stranger. That's how it feels now, like talking to someone I just met five minutes ago. After everything we've been through, after all of it… and  _ fuck,  _ it pisses me off.

"Fine," I tell her curtly, glaring at the floor.

"Please."

I glance up, surprised to find her looking at me now, right at me, tears forming in her bright blue eyes.

"Adie, please talk to me," she pleads, lip trembling as the tears threaten to fall.

"I can't," I mutter. "I can't talk to you. Not now."

She looks like I might as well have just slapped her, a single tear escaping her. I wish I could find it in me to meet her in the middle. Tell her it's gonna be alright one day, that I don't hate her. I just can't. I still feel… betrayed. Like she hated Alpha more than she loves me and Daryl and everyone else she almost killed. Everyone she  _ did _ get killed. People  _ died. _ I can't let it go, not yet, no matter how cruel it feels to hold on because… because even though it's cruel, I feel justified. I think. I don't know. Maybe I just can't accept that she's sorry because I don't want to be hurt again when she goes out and does something else stupid.

"Hey, guys," Luke hollers before Carol or I can speak again, standing to address us all. "Uh, I need somebody to run an errand for me."

"I'll go."

"I'll go."

Carol and I exchange a startled glance, having gotten to our feet and spoken at the same time, exactly in sync.

"I'm goin'," I state firmly, daring her to disagree or tag along.

"Daryl wanted you to stay put," she points out.

"Daryl knows damn well I'm not just gonna sit around and do nothin'," I scoff, turning to Luke. "What do you need?"

"Uh, just the wires fr-"

"You're  _ staying here, _ Adrienne," Carol snaps. "What if something happens and you lose the baby? What do you think that'll do to Daryl?"

I blink at her, shocked, and then the rage… it damn near knocks the wind out of me.

"What do _you_ think it would've done to Daryl if I never left that cave?" I demand, voice cold and sharp. "Huh? What the hell do you think it would've done to _me_ if I… if my-" I pause, tears pricking the backs of my eyes at the memory of bloody sheets and pain and the _crushing_ emptiness I felt seeing Maggie's belly swell with life and mine just… I claw my tears away. "You know what? Go ahead. You… you go ahead and, and go, 'cause you're gonna do whatever the hell you're gonna do anyway, right?"

I whirl around, shoving past Negan on my way out the door and into the back stairwell, where I collapse against the wall and sob.

*Daryl's POV*

"Judith."

She's out here, putting down walkers,  _ alone.  _ Adie must've brought her out, got antsy being all cooped up. She's probably gonna catch up any second, breathless and lecturing the kid on running off and how easy it is to get lost out here. I dunno how the hell Judith managed to sneak away from her, but it makes me think of Carl when he snuck into Sanctuary with a goddamn machine gun. These Grimes kids, always just wanting to be where they shouldn't. Brave like their dad, and fearless. I dunno if that's a good thing or not. Judith wheels around, tucking her sword away.

"What're you doin'?" I demand.

"I'm fine," she assures me, the picture of innocence.

"Where's your Aunt Adie?"

"Probably still arguing with Aunt Carol," she shrugs.

Shit, that ain't good. Still, they're adults. If they're bitching at each other, at least they're talking, and I gotta worry about Judith now.

"Then who you with?"

"No one."

Oh, damn it.

"Come on," I mutter wearily, turning back towards the tower. "We're goin' back. Let's go."

"Please," she blurts frantically. "I wanna stay."

"No."

"I left Aunt Adie a note," she insists. "I swear it's fine."

"No, that wasn't a question," I tell her firmly. "Let's go."

"No," she protests. "I  _ hate _ it up there. Smells like cat pee. I wanna learn what you do, how to keep us safe. In case something happens."

Her reasoning stops me short before I can argue with her. In case something happens. Like in case I die. She wants to know she can keep her family safe. It's all I ever wanted, too. She's looking up at me with them eyes that don't belong to a ten year old, waiting.

"I walk the perimeter," I inform her. "I look for anything that looks wrong. If I find somethin', I go somewhere safe and radio it in. There's no room for mistakes, not right now."

"I know."

"All right," I cave. "If you do this with me, you're gonna do everything I say, you're gonna stay right next to me. All right?"

"Promise."

"All right, come on."

She trails along behind me, heel toe like I taught her, and all I can think is how Adie's gonna be so pissed when she finds that note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took so long to post :( The last couple weeks of my life have been absolute insanity and I haven't had much time to write, and I didn't want to rush and put out a mediocre chapter just for the sake of putting out another chapter, you feel? Anyway, please accept this heartfelt apology and the lovey-dovey (hopefully decent) smut as a thank you just for being here and continuing to read, I hope you liked this chapter! I promise 31 will not take as long as this one did, I will have it posted ASAP.


	31. Not Much To Look At, Right?

**Chapter 31**

Probably shouldn't surprise me how good a student Judith is already, but I'm pretty damn impressed. She's quiet, eyes and ears open, watching my every move. She ain't complained once. Time to see how much she's picked up. I reach out, stopping her in her tracks with a hand on her shoulder.

"A hunter moves," I murmur, an echo of the same words my dad spoke to me and Merle when we were learning. "Everything else moves around it," I shake off the memory of Will Dixon, wishing it didn't still hurt, and continue. "Try to spot things that don't belong, things that just don't feel right. Now take a look. Tell me what you see."

She moves slowly across the clearing, sharp eyes flickering every which way. It don't take her five seconds to spot the bit of skin clinging to a tall pine, stuck to the bark.

"Livin' or dead?" I question, watching her examine her findings.

"Walker," she says decisively.

She's right and that shouldn't surprise me either, but I still feel the pride swelling in my chest. She's gonna do just fine for herself. Rick would be proud.

"They could be roundin' more up," I tell her, crossing the clearing. "Stay behind me."

She does as she's told, trailing me through the woods, silence falling once more.

*Adrienne's POV*

After my little hormone induced meltdown in the stairwell, I'd picked myself up and made my way back into the big room. Judith left a note telling me she was gonna go find Daryl and he radioed Gabe a little bit ago to let us know she was staying with him. I feel like a failure, not having stopped her leaving in the first place. Michonne would  _ shit. _ How the hell am I gonna be a good mom if I can't even keep track of an 11 year old? Carol and, unexpectedly enough, Kelly left to find whatever shit Luke needs for the stereo setup and now I have nothing to do at all but sit here. No one's  _ letting _ me do anything.

"Hey."

For a second I think Negan's talking to me and I whirl around, ready to chew him out for no reason in particular. He's not talking to me. Lydia's been isolating herself, she and Dog sequestered in an unoccupied corner, and she doesn't even look up at Negan's approach. She's angry. I get it. I get it maybe more than anyone else here. I still have dreams about a man with an eye patch. He tells me about stars, tells me how special I am, calls me Adie Bee like it's God's name on his lips. Then he plunges a blade into my stomach. I turn away from Lydia and Negan, letting my eyes casually peruse the room while I pretend not to listen.

"I, um…" Negan murmurs, offering a bowl of stew to the girl. "I don't think you've eaten anything today."

"I'm good," Lydia mutters, scratching Dog behind the ears, still not bothering to look up.

"You know, I can't tell if it's just one of those things or the craziness of us all moving to an abandoned tower…" Negan muses. "Or if you're just avoiding me."

"I'm avoiding you."

"Well, shit, that… that's honest."

"You want me to lie?" Lydia demands, glaring up at him. "Make you feel better?"

"No," Negan says. "I don't."

"Okay," Lydia huffs. "Well, you can give someone else the rat stew."

"It's not rat," Negan protests. "It's possum. I mean, yeah, basically a big rat, but I, um… I just wanted to say… that I liked her."

Lydia stiffens and I get ready to intervene if I need to because I remember how it felt when Andrea showed up at the prison trying to play peacemaker, thinking she knew fuck all about my father just because they were sleeping together. I remember the rage.

"Your mom, I mean, she did some horrible shit that there's no excusing any of it, but…" he sighs. "I liked… I liked a lot of things about her. And I wish to god I didn't have to do what I did. But if there is somethin' that you wanna say to me, then you should say it."

"Most of us wish you'd died, too."

She didn't even hesitate, didn't need to think about it. She just said it point blank and left Negan to stew on that with his rat soup, and I don't know why the hell it strikes me as funny, because none of this is funny, but I can't help the snort that escapes me when I lift my eyes and see Negan's crestfallen face.

"Somethin' funny, Mrs. D?" He questions, adopting his usual shit-eating demeanor and sinking into the chair beside mine, offering me the bowl.

"Not at all," I scoff, waving the stew away. "That little heart to heart went well. Way to alienate the only person here who ever even halfway liked you."

"Come on," he murmurs. "I think I'm growin' on a few of you. Daryl, at least?"

"The  _ only _ reason you're still alive right now is 'cause killin' you would be a waste of energy," I mutter. "Don't think we forgot all the shit you did just 'cause you're not dead yet."

"I never said you did," he sighs, something like remorse crossing his face.

It's quiet for a moment and it feels odd, sitting here next to a man who beat two of the people I loved the most to death and tortured my husband, a man who sparked a long, bloody war that damn near wiped us all out… but that's the thing, isn't it? He wasn't the spark. We were. We came for his men in the middle of the night, slaughtered them in their sleep. We fired the first shots. We thought we were justified, and part of me still clings to that belief, but…  _ we  _ started the war. It took a long time for me to accept that, but I did accept it because that's the only way I could live with Negan alive. Holding onto the hate… it's fucking exhausting.

"Look," I blurt. "You can't be tellin' her shit like that. You liked her mom."

"It's the truth."

"It's  _ your  _ truth."

"Huh," he scratches his chin thoughtfully, but I don't think he gets it really.

"I don't know what kinda parents  _ you _ had," I mutter.

"Yeah, I heard about Papa Adrienne a time or two."

"Don't call him that," I spit. "You didn't know him. And you didn't know Lydia's mom. Don't pretend you did."

He just holds one hand up in surrender, the other still holding onto the bowl of stew that smells surprisingly good. Damn it.

"Who the hell told you about him, anyway?" I demand, ignoring the urge to grab the bowl and inhale its contents.

"Rick."

My eyes snap to Negan's and he's looking right back at me.

"He told me a lot of the shit you guys went through," he continues, oblivious to the shock in my bones at hearing that name so casually falling from his mouth. "I gotta say, he respected the absolute shit outta you. I-"

"Stop it," I hiss, leaping to my feet. "Stop talkin' out your ass. Stop talkin' about shit you don't know  _ shit  _ about," I turn away, then turn back as another thought occurs to me. "And you know what? Stay the hell away from Lydia. She's got enough problems."

"Hey, I didn't mean to-"

"Shut up," I snap. "I don't care. Killin' Alpha, helpin' Daryl, you didn't do that 'cause you're a good person. You're a self servin', manipulative piece of  _ shit _ and no one's ever gonna forget that. Rick let you live 'cause it's what  _ Carl _ wanted and don't you think for a goddamn  _ second  _ you meant anything more to him than that. Lydia's right. Nobody wants you here, but don't you worry. No one's gonna kill you 'cause there's no  _ point. _ "

I whirl around and stalk off, leaving him alone. Maybe we did start the war, but he took Abraham and he took Glenn and he  _ liked  _ it. That's the difference. We did what we did because we knew what kind of people the Saviors were, we knew what Negan was. We didn't put on a fucking show, we didn't  _ torture _ his people.

I can't forget.

*Daryl's POV*

It ain't quiet too long. There's a small handful of dead wandering closer and closer to us, just five of 'em, but there's one at the head of the pack and I'm thinkin' it ain't a walker at all. My suspicions are confirmed when I line up my shot and the girl's head snaps up, living eyes peering right at me and Judith through the eye holes of her mask. She ain't got time to react, though. I fire, my arrow piercing her chest, and she flees, leaving me and Judith to take out her dead buddies. We lunge forward, side by side, and she takes down one walker while I slash at the other three with my knives.

"Come on," I urge, breaking into a sprint, tearing after the injured Whisperer.

It's always easier to track something that's bleeding. We follow the trail to a ditch and I motion for Judith to stay put when I see the Whisperer just lying there on the ground, arrow still protruding from her chest, waiting to die. I move forward slowly, crossbow aimed right between her eyes. She ain't got the mask on no more and just for a second I feel guilty she's a she but then I remember it don't matter. A threat's a threat. She pulls her knife, panting and glaring up at me like she ain't already a dead woman anyway.

"Throw it over there," I command. "Now."

"I will," she bargains. "If you pull this outta me. I can't die like this. It ain't natural."

"You drop the knife, I'll think about it."

It's a lie and I know it and she probably knows it, too, but she casts the knife aside, so I guess she's desperate enough to hope it ain't a lie.

"Where're your people?" I demand.

"A few miles east," she gasps. "Headed to the ocean."

"Are they with the horde?"

She nods frantically, dark eyes never leaving mine.

"You a scout?"

"I was… goin' off on my own."

"Why?"

"I had no choice. I love those people, but he's… I couldn't stay there."

"He's what?"

"Lost it," she gasps. "After what you did to her. Will you take this out?"

"Does he know where we are?"

"I don't know," she swallows, shaking her head. "But he's gonna keep comin' for you. You took too much."

I move forward again, ready to fire, and she panics.

"Oh, no, please.  _ Please.  _ I… I wanna walk after."

"Does he  _ know _ where we are?" I repeat.

"I don't know," she insists weakly. "I mean it."

So she's useless. I fire, sending an arrow through her eye, then lean my crossbow against a tree and climb down into the ditch to retrieve my arrows.

"You didn't have to do that," Judith says.

"She didn't have any information for us, anyway," I mutter, bending to lift the dead woman's mask from the ground. "She was gonna die. Better it be quick."

I start back up the embankment and I can feel the little girl's scornful gaze on me. I should've taken her back to the tower. Maybe she ain't ready to accept all of what being out here, protecting our people, entails. She's still just a kid, it don't matter how much she's seen, how much she's had to do. 

"Come on," I order, slinging the crossbow over my shoulder and heading back the way we came.

"Maybe she has a family," Judith protests, staying stubbornly rooted to her spot.

"Look," I sigh, turning back and meeting her where she stands. "If they're only a few miles away, maybe we can spot somethin' from the top of the tower."

I take her hand and pull her along with me, kicking myself for letting her see this shit. I should've taken her back, protected her. 

*Adrienne's POV*

"Hey Jer, you seen Lydia?"

"No," Jerry says, raising his hands apologetically. "No, sorry."

Shit. I pat my leg, prompting Dog to follow me down the hall, pausing at each doorway long enough to peer inside, deduce Lydia's absence, and keep moving. She doesn't want to talk, I know that, and I'm not gonna make her, but I have been watching for her. I don't want her running away again, especially not now, not with Beta out there. I haven't seen her in at least half an hour. I took my eyes off of her for one goddamn second, just a second, so RJ could show me a  _ 'cool trick' _ -he can stand on one foot- and she was gone. Yeah. I'm all set to be mother of the fucking year and I haven't even given birth yet.

"You liked her? How the hell can you tell me you liked her, huh?!"

Oh, hell. I break into a sprint, Dog on my heels, and tear down the hallway to the room at the very end. Lydia's here with Negan, yelling at him, and I stop just outside the door. They're wrapped up in their argument, oblivious to my presence, and I wait, just in case she needs me, just in case… I don't know, I just don't trust him. I can't.

"I hated her!" Lydia snarls. "I wanna hate her, so screw you for telling me I can't even do that!"

"It's okay, Lydia," Negan soothes.

"No!" She shrieks, lunging at the man, hurling both fists at his chest. "It's not okay! It's not okay! It's not okay! It's not…"

She trails off, sobbing, and I'll be damned if Negan's arms don't circle around her, pulling her into a hug. The whole scene is bizarre. This man has no empathy, he… he doesn't care about anything except himself, he's… but she's clinging to him, crying into his chest, and he's just holding her, stroking her hair. His eyes flicker up to mine, welling with emotion, and I don't know what the hell to do. He looks worried for a moment, like he's afraid I'm gonna come in there and rip Lydia away from him, and then I realize my hand is on my knife, ready to draw. But I can't. As much as I hate him, as much as I still want him gone… Lydia wants him around. He's her friend. I dip my chin, letting my hand fall to my side, and he nods, and  _ fuck  _ if that doesn't piss me off, coming to an understanding with a man I  _ loathe,  _ but what the hell else am I gonna do?

"It's okay," he whispers, dropping his eyes to the sobbing girl in his arms. "It's okay."

I turn on my heel and leave them to it, Dog happily trailing me back into the big room.

"Did you find her?" Jerry questions as I hurl myself into a chair beside Nabila.

"Yeah," I huff, scratching Dog's belly distractedly.

"Is she okay?" Nabila asks softly.

No. She's not okay. She's not okay and the one person she seems to be able to open up to about it is the one person I wish she wouldn't, but it's not up to me. It's not up to me, it doesn't have to make sense to me, it's not  _ about  _ me. But it still irks the shit out of me.

"She will be."

*Daryl's POV*

Judith ain't happy. She ain't bouncing back, neither, like she usually does when shit upsets her. She's been sulking, listlessly shuffling through the woods without a word.

"What is it?" I question when she stops in her tracks, staring at the ground.

"I can't believe we just left her," she mutters. "In a  _ ditch, _ " she turns, lifting her eyes to mine. "What if  _ you  _ were lost… and no one could find you? Or Aunt Adie or RJ was. Or Mom."

I ain't got an answer for that. I ain't good at this shit, I ain't Rick or Michonne or Adie. I can't figure out what to say, I ain't got the first clue how to help her.

"You gotta tell me where this is comin' from," I tell her softly.

"I just want us to be back together again," she murmurs. "At  _ home. _ That's all."

"I radioed your mom," I announce, hoping maybe I can comfort her a little. "So she knows not to go home, so she's safe. And that way she can find us."

"You talked to her?" She questions, surprised.

"No," I shake my head, her face falling. "But I'm gonna keep tryin'."

"It doesn't matter," she mumbles tearily. "I talked to her after the fire. And I'm worried… maybe she won't come home."

"What'd she say?"

"She went to go help some people she met," she says, avoiding my gaze. "Who needed her. I didn't wanna tell you."

"Why's that?"

"'Cause maybe you'd leave, too," her eyes flicker to mine, tears spilling over and down her cheeks.

Oh… Jesus, she thinks she's gonna end up all alone.

"I won't."

"You promise?"

"I can't," I shake my head, wishing like hell I could.

"Why?" She demands, her little voice breaking.

"Because I can't lie to you," I tell her. "I dunno what's gonna happen. And there ain't no one that can tell you that they do. And there's one thing I know. There's a whole bunch of people back there that'd do anything for you. And one day, when you're older, they're gonna need you to do anything for them. You got a whole lot of family."

She turns away, her gaze dropping back to the ground, tears still falling steadily, and I wish, I  _ wish _ I could tell her something different. Promise her we'd always be around, that everything's gonna work out, but I won't 'cause that's fairy tales. We get what we get and we live with it or… or we don't. I crouch down to her level, waiting until she looks up before speaking again.

"Nothin' can take the place of someone you love bein' gone," I murmur. "But that doesn't mean that everything that follows is gon' break your heart."

She smiles sadly, sniffling, and wraps her arms around me, and I just hold her. As long as she needs, I'll hold onto her. I can't promise I'll be around forever, but I'm here now. She pulls away after a moment, wiping the tears from her face.

"Hey," I murmur, tapping the brim of her hat. "We gotta go, kiddo. All right? Come on."

She smiles and it's still sad, but it's genuine enough, and moves to follow me through the trees just as the radio in my pocket crackles to life.

"Yo, Gabriel?" I question, lifting the walkie to my lips.

"Daryl-" he squawks, voice warped and static. "-are you?"

"You're breakin' up," I announce. "I can't hear you."

"Come back… they've… surrounded the-"

"Gabriel?" I bark, alarm coursing through my veins.

"We need… wagon…"

"Gabriel!"

He's gone.

*Adrienne's POV*

We heard them before we saw them. The horde. The last update from Alden and Aaron, they said the Whisperers were heading towards Oceanside like we'd planned. They're still out there, and Carol and Kelly,  _ Daryl and Judith _ are still out there, but I can't think about that right now. We all got jobs to do. It's chaos, Gabe and I running frantically through it all trying to make sure everyone's accounted for, make sure they're where they need to be, they've got ammo, they've got weapons, armor. Everything's going as smoothly as can be expected, considering the circumstances, right up until Gabe and Dianne collide in the hallway, Dianne's arrows and Gabe hitting the floor.

"Watch where you're-" Dianne starts angrily, immediately contrite. "Sorry."

"Damn it!" Gabe huffs, allowing me to pull him to his feet while Dianne collects her arrows. "Yeah. Me, too."

Gabe and I continue our manic sprint, pausing just long enough to peek out one of the windows, attempting to get a head count. It's no use. There are thousands.

"I'm scared."

Gabe and I whirl around to find RJ peering up at us, clinging to Gracie's hand. I crouch down in front of the kids, taking their free hands in mine.

"Hey," I soothe as best I can, despite the fear seeping into my bones. "We're safe up here. That's why we moved, remember?"

"We've  _ seen  _ how many are coming," Gracie protests. "Lots more than we have."

"You see these fingers?" Gabe questions, sinking to his knees beside me, waggling his fingers for the kids. "Not much to look at, right?"

I side-eye him, wondering where the hell he's going with this. He ignores me entirely, closing his hand into a fist. 

"But together, they make a mighty weapon. That's who we are. Alexandria," he lifts a finger. "Hilltop. Oceanside. People of the Kingdom."

"Is that enough?" Gracie asks dubiously, eyeing the four fingers Gabe's holding in the air.

"I'm not done yet," Gabe sing-songs, wiggling his thumb.

"Who's that for?" Gracie questions.

"The others," Gabe breathes, almost reverently, dropping his hand. "The ones that aren't here. Those that might find us help. Or come here and help. Together, we will fight. And that's how  _ we _ will survive," he thumbs a stray tear from my cheek, offering me a small smile. I didn't realize I was crying. " _ Together. _ "

"Okay," I breathe, sniffling and chuckling softly as I rise to standing. "Okay you two, let's get movin', all right? C'mon."

I take the two children by the hand and lead them into the room at the end of the hallway where Nabila is presiding over the rest of the kids, smiling and singing songs, keeping a brave face so they don't panic. I hope I'm even half the mother she is. I steel myself, sending up a prayer to everything or maybe nothing, anything out there that gives a damn, for Daryl to be okay before battening down my emotional hatches and joining the others in the big room. We can do it together.  _ Only  _ together. One more fight. Then we get to live.

*Daryl's POV*

"Adie!"

I barely get her name out before her lips crash into mine. It's quick and still more than we can afford right now, but I don't think she can help it and I can't either.

"A note doesn't cut it, Jude," she murmurs, pulling the little girl in for a hug. "For future reference."

"Sorry, Aunt Adie," Judith says sheepishly, voice muffled against Adie's chest.

"It's okay," Adie assures her. "C'mon, let's go find your brother. I think he could use a story about the Brave Man."

She squeezes my hand before leading Judith down the hallway, subtly removing her from the middle of the action. I think we could all use a story about the Brave Man right about now. I ain't sure how the hell we're gonna get out of this. But there ain't time. I snatch up some fishing line and a couple cans of nails and Carol shadows me, the two of us setting traps in the stairwells while I fill her in on the Michonne situation.

"Helping some people?" She demands derisively. "That's all she said?"

"Yeah," I mutter, taking the stairs two by two, passing her before she reaches the bottom.

"Well, if they're like us, I get it."

"I just wish she would've told me," I huff, placing a tin full of nails on the ground. "We'd've gone with her."

I don't need to clarify who  _ we  _ is. Me and Adie. I ain't sure when the hell we became  _ we _ people, but it don't bother me like when it was my brother and his flavor of the month back before the world ended.  _ We _ can't come,  _ we _ have plans,  _ we _ like the color purple… those people used to bug the shit outta me. Now I can't imagine going anywhere without Adie, not for any real length of time anyway.

"Only way she would go anywhere is knowing you two were here," Carol points out. "For Judith and RJ. Everyone."

"Just keep thinkin' I'm never gonna see her again," I murmur, winding fishing line around the railings. "Jus' like everyone else."

"I'm still here."

Yeah. I know she is. I'm grateful for that, really, but the way she says it… like the lives she's risked ain't shit, like it wasn't almost Adie… Hilltop would still be standing if it weren't for Carol's bullshit and we wouldn't be in this mess. I sprint back up the stairs without another word.

*Adrienne's POV*

"Our plan is the same," Gabe announces to those of us gathered in the big room.

Judith had stayed with the other kids all of ten minutes, maybe, before joining the rest of us. I wish she'd let herself be little. I'm grateful she's not afraid, that she's helpful, but she's a little girl. She should be allowed to just be that. Maybe after we win this thing. One more fight. It's always just one more fight.

"Lead the horde away," Gabe continues. "Just not from Oceanside as we had planned. Once the walkers are clear, we evacuate to Rendezvous Point B. Luke, we ready?"

"Yeah," Luke sighs uncertainly from behind his stereo setup. "Yeah. Uh, technically."

"Technically?" I repeat.

"Okay," he huffs nervously, getting to his feet. "So… these are the final pieces that we need to connect to the wagon. But in order for it to do the pied piper thing that we need it to do over the cliff, we gotta get from A to B and I gotta plug and plug, and then we should be good to go."

"That wagon is on the other side of the horde," Magna points out.

"Yup," I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. "It is."

"So…" Jerry says, eyes flickering between Magna's face and mine. "Someone's gotta go through it? With skins in there."

"We'll go in teams," I announce.

"You ain't," Daryl says defeatedly, like he already knows this isn't even a discussion and he's just saying it to go through the motions.

"I've already done it once," I shrug, catching Magna's eyes and nodding before turning my gaze to Daryl's. "I'm not askin'. You know this is the only way."

"Five groups," Gabe says when no one else argues. "Two in each. One carries the cargo, one protects. It's  _ crucial _ that all the equipment makes it to the wagon."

"We can make it through," Lydia murmurs, nodding. "I'll help."

"We're willing," Beatrice hedges, shifting uncomfortably beside Rachel. "But not if she goes."

"Bea-" I start, watching Lydia's face fall.

"We know she's earned trust with you," Rachel says flatly, cutting me off. "But… Oceanside isn't ready. Not with this."

"That's fine," Gabe says sharply before I can even begin to protest. "As it happens, Lydia's role is in here."

"Look," Daryl sighs, tearing his eyes from my face so he can address the entire group. "We're not all gonna make it through. But this  _ is _ the only way."

"If Daryl's going, then so am I," Kelly announces.

It's settled. We split up, each going our separate ways, gathering weapons while Luke prepares the equipment. Carol, Dianne, and Bertie trail me into the room serving as our arsenal. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife. No one speaks and Bertie makes it a point not to even look at Carol, snatching up a bow and quiver and stalking from the room. I don't blame her. I busy myself gathering my throwing knives, tucking them away wherever I've got the room. Earl made them for me. Now he's dead.

"Negan  _ helped _ them attack Hilltop," Dianne hisses, voice cracking like a whip, glaring down her nose at Carol. "That couldn't have happened if-"

"Dianne," Carol snaps. "I know. And I'm sorry about that."

Dianne blinks in surprise, then breezes from the room without another word, leaving me alone with Carol. Just as well, I don't really want another audience for this conversation.

"Are you good?" I question.

"Is that rhetorical or do you actually expect an answer?" Carol asks, her eyes flickering to mine.

"I mean," I sigh, scratching at the itch beneath the shoulder strap on my armor. "I mean are you good to go out there?"

"Adie, I'm fine," she huffs, selecting a blade from the table and stowing it in her sleeve. " _ You _ shouldn't be out there. That's-"

"No, see," I cut her off, scoffing bitterly. "I'm not askin' if you're  _ comfortable. _ I'm askin' if, whoever your partner is, are you gonna have their back?"

"Of course I will," she breathes, stricken, like she doesn't understand how I could even ask such a thing.

"Yeah," I mutter, turning to leave the room. "Yeah, we'll see."

"Adie, wait," she blurts, grabbing me by the elbow and turning me around to face her. "I…" she trails off, floundering, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I… I don't know what I'd be doing if you hadn't come back."

I just look at her. I don't know how to forgive her. I also don't know if she's really sorry or if she's just saying it because she thinks we're all gonna die tonight, but… she's family. She's  _ family.  _ Maybe that's why I can't let it go.

"You'd be doin' the same thing we're doin' now," I point out. "Fightin' the war you started. You'd just be doin' it with one less soldier," I sigh, crossing my arms over my belly protectively. "Sayin' you're sorry, actin' like… like things'd be any different if I'd died in that cave…" I snort humorlessly. "It's bullshit, Carol. 'Cause the truth is, it doesn't matter how many bodies pile up, you're not gonna have what you want, not ever, not really. You  _ can't.  _ You're chasin' a ghost. You need to accept it."

She nods, tears overflowing and slipping down her cheeks, hanging from the tip of her nose, and I soften just a little. She's still one of the most important people in the world to me. We've been through too much shit together. We'll get through this, too. We will.


	32. A Regular Bonnie and Clyde

**Chapter 32**

*Daryl's POV*

"I still don't want you out there," I mutter, slathering guts onto Adie's back.

"Daryl," she sighs, turning to face me. "I'm no good in here. I need to be out there. You said it, we're not all gonna make it through. I need to do my part."

She ain't wrong. She's one of our best at hand to hand, always has been. I just… I don't wanna know what it's like to lose her, to actually  _ lose  _ her. I already got a taste of that when the mineshaft collapsed, I can't handle it again. I can't. She's carrying our baby, I don't know what I'll do if…

"Would you quit lookin' at me like that?" She questions, chuckling sadly, tucking a loose curl behind her ear and pulling her hood over her hair.

"Like what?"

"Like we're not gonna make it," she murmurs. "Like you've already decided you're never gonna see me again."

"We don't know what's gonna happen out there," I point out. "You're pregnant."

"Only a little."

"What the hell's that mean?" I demand. "Only a little."

"I mean, I'm not like…" she clasps her hands in front of her, making a giant circle around her belly, filling her mouth with air so her cheeks puff out. "I'm not...  _ beleaguered. _ "

"Oh, my god," I huff, the corner of my mouth twitching up despite myself, turning my back to her so she can slap some guts on me.

"You know, a wise woman once told me," she says, spreading the foul smelling sludge across my back. "You can wage war through the second trimester."

"Yeah," I scoff, eyeing her over my shoulder. "That what you're callin' yourself now?  _ Wise woman? _ "

"Of course not," she grins as I turn to face her again. "I was talkin' about Maggie. I think she'd know, don't you?"

Maggie. I keep thinking about her, about how if she comes back, she's gonna be devastated. Before Hilltop was Adie's, it was hers. It's gonna break her heart, seeing it burnt down to nothing. I'm still trying to come up with another way to convince Adie to stay inside when her eyes flicker away from mine, her gaze settling on something over my shoulder. Negan. He ain't covered in guts like the rest of us and he's supposed to be Adie's partner, carry the bag while she covers his ass.

"Hey," I bark, stalking towards him. "Why you clean?"

"I ain't goin'," he says flatly.

"You've done this more'n any of us," I protest.

"I am on the fuckin'  _ tip-top _ of every skin's kill list," he points out. "Especially fee fi fo  _ asshole, _ so if the idea's to get through without drawin' a shitload of attention, then I am the last person these people want standin' next to 'em."

"That's a bunch of bullshit," I growl. "You wanna be a part of this? You gotta put your ass on the line. Just like everybody else."

"It's time," Gabriel announces, pulling open the inner door that leads to a small room of sorts Adie called  _ 'The Sanctum' _ when we found this place.

Oh, god damn it. Guess Negan's ass ain't gonna be on the line today.

"Just me, then?" Adie questions, plucking the pack meant for Negan off the floor and slinging it over her shoulders. "All right."

"No," I shake my head. "No way. You ain't goin' out there alone. You're with me 'n Kelly, c'mon."

Adie don't argue like I thought she would, just shrugs and falls into step beside me, stopping just long enough to lean down and give Judith a peck on the cheek.

"Take care of your brother, all right?" She murmurs. "Be safe."

"I will," Judith promises, keeping a stiff upper lip even though I know all she wants to do is cry. "I promise."

"You, too, Lydia," Adie says, straightening up and turning to look at the teenager standing quietly by herself in the corner of the room. "Be safe."

Lydia just dips her head, giving nothing away. There's nine of us going out, since Negan's being a pussy about it. Luke and Jules, Jerry and Magna, Carol and Beatrice, and me, Adie, and Kelly. Gabriel holds the door as we all file out, closing it behind me. I turn back for a moment, watching Judith's little face through the window in the door. I know she's scared we ain't coming back, but she's gonna be okay. She's strong. She shouldn't have to be, but she is. I press my hand to the glass and she mirrors the motion, offering me a brave little smile.

I gave Kelly the skin mask from that Whisperer I killed in the woods. She's probably safer than any of us. Everyone's ready, waiting on me, so I turn away from Judith, lifting my hood over my head, glancing at Adie as I pull my knives from their sheaths. She grins, then breaks into a fit of giggles.

"What?" I demand.

"Nothin'," she sighs, sobering. "Nothin', you just… you look like you're about to go rob a bank."

Now everyone's laughing and it ain't the time at all, but it feels good, like maybe a little bit of the fear we're all carrying left our lungs.

"Yeah, well," I nudge her with my shoulder, eyeing her up and down, gaze lingering pointedly on the hoodie she's wearing, identical to mine. "You look the same as me, so what's that make you then?"

"Guess we're a regular Bonnie and Clyde," she quips.

"I'm Clyde."

"Nah," she chuckles, shaking her head. "Let's go, Bonnie."

I wish it wasn't, but it's time. It's gotta be. I nod to Jerry, who's stationed at the outside door, hand already resting on the handle. He pushes it down slowly, easing the door open and allowing the walkers to flood inside. We stand motionless, I don't think some of us are even breathing, just letting the room fill up around us. We gotta move  _ with _ the herd, not through it, like riding a wave. We gotta let 'em steer us, just until we're out the door, then we can move a little more independently. Magna's first, then Jerry, then Luke and Jules, all of us one by one letting the dead carry us outside. Knowing it's the plan don't help much when Adie just kinda falls against a couple walkers, pressing her back into them while she shimmies out the door sideways. It's like seeing her in the herd at Hilltop all over again. Still, I mimick her and shuffle sideways out the door and into the open. The sooner we get this done, the better.

*Adrienne's POV*

I overestimated myself. I thought I could do this no problem, piece of cake. I've done it before. But the  _ noise…  _ maybe last time I was just too goddamn tired, too desperate to be bothered by it. Maybe it's just that I had a lot of time to get used to the sound. Not this time. Stepping out into the horde this time, into the deafening roar, thousands of restless dead… I feel like I'm suffocating. It's like being buried alive. My breath hitches in my chest, the fear damn near paralyzing. My vision swims and I blink, hot tears rolling down my cheeks. Jesus Christ, what the hell was I thinking? We're all gonna die out here. We're all gonna die.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and jerk violently away before realizing it's just Daryl. It's just Daryl, Kelly peering around his shoulder. My jackrabbit heart slows, the tightness in my chest easing. It's just Daryl. He eyes me with concern, and I dip my head, just the tiniest of movements, to answer the question he can't ask. I'm okay. I'm not okay, but I'm gonna be. He doesn't look convinced. I'm not either. But we can fake it together until we are. Just a few more yards until we hit the tree line. So we keep moving, one foot in front of the other, together.

I catch the glint of sunlight bouncing off of a blade a split second before the Whisperer goes down, screaming, an arrow protruding from his chest. Good. The archers are watching. Still, it all happened so fast I don't feel like my brain is keeping up with my eyes, like it takes me a beat or two to process how close that knife was to Kelly's body, how precarious our situation really is. Daryl stops in his tracks, glancing from the feeding frenzy brought on by the Whisperer's death up to the windows and back again. We gotta tighten up. That can't happen again, it can't be that close. Kelly places one hand over Daryl's shoulder, pulling me in and clinging to my free hand with the other, and we keep moving.

Another scream sounds a few moments later, fainter than the first but no less alarming. Still, it's not one of ours. Rachel, Dianne, Scott, Bertie, they don't miss. It's comforting, knowing they're up there. We're not stupid. We know those screams will alert Beta. That's part of the plan. If he thinks we're up there, killing from a distance, that's where his focus is gonna be. We're close enough now I can see the tree line, I can see an  _ end  _ to this death shuffle, but… but the herd is tightening around us, closing in, and something ice cold seeps into my bones. The plan backfired. They're trying to slow us down, make us harder for the archers to see. Beta knows we're here.

*Daryl's POV*

Adie's not okay. Adie's not okay and I can't do nothin' to help her. Being out here, being in the horde, it's doing something to her. It's like she ain't even here. Her face is blank, eyes all glazed over, tears streaming down her cheeks… it reminds me of the farm, them panic attacks she used to have. I never should've let her come. But she's still moving, though. She's still with us, her and Kelly clinging tight to each other's hands, and she's close enough she's bumping into my elbow every so often. We're gonna make it. Maybe we're all gonna make it. Maybe the herd tightening don't mean nothin'. Maybe. It don't take ten more minutes and we're out, stumbling into the woods towards the others. It's just seven of us, though. Jerry, Magna, Luke, and Jules are all here, they're all safe. But me, Adie, and Kelly were the last ones to leave the building. Everyone else should be here already,  _ all _ of 'em.

"Where's Carol, where's Beatrice?" I whisper, eyes darting around like maybe they're hiding.

"I dunno, man," Jerry whispers.

Adie drops to her knees beside Magna, who looks like she'd also had a hard time in the horde again.

"Hey," Magna murmurs hoarsely, gently thumbing away the last of Adie's tears. "You good?"

"I…" Adie trails off, shaking her head like she's waterlogged, something flickering to life behind her eyes again. "Are  _ you? _ "

Even now, even in the middle of all this bullshit, it's still weird seeing these two getting along. Going through what they went through together, though, it don't surprise me. Walking away from something that should've killed 'em both… they got a bond now. They're both still carrying the weight of Connie's absence. It ain't theirs to carry. Before anyone can say anything else, a shrill shriek pierces the air and Adie springs to her feet.

"That's Beatrice!" She whispers sharply, yanking the knife from her sheath and charging back towards the horde.

"No, Adie," I whisper, grabbing her by the elbows and turning her to face me.

She glares at me, eyes welling with fresh tears, and I can see the heartbreak, the guilt already setting in. But she don't get to save everybody.

"If that was her, she's gone," I murmur, and she collapses against my chest, shaking with quiet sobs. "Alright? Shh… there ain't nothin' we can do."

I just hold her. I know we can't stay here forever, I know we gotta keep moving, but I wish we could. I wish we were somewhere safe, somewhere I could hold her together until she didn't need me to. But we can't and she knows that, too, so she pulls away, still crying, still breaking, slips her hand into mine, and we wait. Beatrice is gone. That don't mean Carol is.

*Adrienne's POV*

Jesus, I need to get my shit together. If we make it through this last fight, there'll be plenty of time to cry later. Daryl keeps looking at me like this is his fault and I hate that, I hate it. By the time Carol shuffles into the woods, I've managed to regain some of my composure. Enough composure, at least, to recognize Lydia, trailing along behind Carol, face hidden beneath her mother's mask. She's got the bag Beatrice was supposed to bring. There's no time to ask what the hell happened, though, and the nine of us sprint through the woods, arcing around to where we'd hidden the wagon. Oscar and Marco are already out here, and they've already got the horses hitched and ready to go.

Luke takes charge, whisper-yelling orders, rigging up the speaker system as quickly as he's able, Jules and Magna handing him parts as needed while the rest of us stand guard, creating a perimeter around the wagon. Much to Luke's ire, we're not exactly working with high tech supplies, but he's jury-rigging like his life and the lives of everyone he knows depends on it because, quite frankly, they do. If we can't get this done, we're out of options.

"Hey Daryl?" Gabe's voice crackles from the walkie attached to Daryl's waistband.

"Yeah," Daryl mutters, lifting the radio to his lips.

They've breached the north stairwell. The Whisperers are  _ inside  _ the tower and our people can't evacuate until we get the goddamn horde away. We're running out of time and Gabe doesn't sound worried in the least, like he's just calling Daryl up to chat about the weather.

"You need to start soon," he says calmly. "They're not up yet, but they will be."

Shit. I glance up at Luke, who is standing in the wagon, frantically tearing strips of duct tape off the roll with his teeth and winding them around a shitload of different colored wires, attempting to attach them to the tape player we'd yanked out of an ancient, rusted Chevy in the hospital's parking lot yesterday.

"All right, on it," Daryl mutters. "But Luke's duct tapin' a bunch of wires to a tape deck, so…"

"My prayers are with you."

"Gonna need 'em."

"Yeah, we are," I murmur, my stomach somersaulting across my guts. "Only car older than the one we pulled that tape deck out of is a fuckin' Model T."

"Ah… watch out. You might get what you're after…"

I don't believe it. It fucking  _ worked.  _ The sound is deafening and I feel bad for the horses, but even that doesn't stop me feeling about ten tons lighter. This is gonna work.

"Boom, babies… Strange, but not a stranger. I'm an ordinary guy… burnin' down the house!"

*Daryl's POV*

I know we ain't won yet, but I'm looking at Adie and it's like the clouds have lifted or some other cheesy ass shit. My sun is back. She flat refused to ride in the wagon first, insisting Kelly take a seat instead. We're gonna be on the road a while though, so we're gonna rotate out, make sure nobody's pushing too hard. Adie's probably gonna keep going until everyone else has their turn. Stubborn.

"Hold tight, wait 'til the party's over. Hold tight, we're in for nasty weather. There has got to be a way… burnin' down the house!"

"I swear to god, if I die and this is the last song I got to hear…" Adie hisses, shooting a glare at Luke.

He's skipping along happily, mouthing the words, pretty goddamn pleased with himself, and I can't say I blame him. Feels good to do what felt impossible. I ain't gonna skip about it, though.

"Here's your ticket, pack your bag. Time for jumpin' overboard. The transportation is here… close enough but not too far, maybe you know…"

Adie glances at me, expression so pained I can't help but laugh at her, bumping her side with mine.

"Burnin' down the house," I murmur into her ear in time with the music.

Her eyes widen in shock and she tosses her head back laughing, probably at my abysmal singing, if you can really even call it singing, and it's okay if she's laughing at me 'cause she's  _ laughing.  _ She's laughing like she ain't laughed in a long fucking time.

"Betrayal," she chuckles. "You have betrayed me this day."

"Ain't my problem if you don't know the classics," I shrug.

"It's not a question of whether or not I  _ know  _ it," she snorts. "It's a matter of taste, somethin'  _ you,  _ apparently, don't possess."

"Mhmm," I agree solemnly. "That's why I married you, Clyde."

"Shut up, Bonnie."

She's still laughing and bobbing her head to the beat, so she must not hate the song that much. She laces her fingers with mine and we keep moving, walking into the night. We ain't gonna make it to Oceanside until dawn, but we're gonna make it.

"They're coming," Lydia hollers. "They're coming!"

"Oh, Jesus," Adie hisses, whipping around to glare at the horde.

A dozen Whisperers have crept up to the front of the herd, lining up behind the walkers, using them as shields. Jules, Carol, and Lydia fire anyway, but it's pointless.

"Speed up!" I order, prompting Marco to snap the reins, urging the horses to pick up their feet. "Go!"

"Over here!" Luke shouts, drawing our attention to the Whisperers coming out of the trees.

"Protect the horses!" Carol commands.

It's chaos. They waited 'til dark to make it harder to pick 'em off. I fire a bolt into one of 'em, Carol sending her own arrow into another, and by the time I turn to figure out where the hell Adie wound up, she's up in the back of the wagon, pulling a throwing knife from her sleeve. Smart, the wagon's the only high ground we got. Deciding she's about as safe as safe can be given the circumstances, I turn back to the skin freaks in the trees, firing another bolt into a Whisperer just a split second too late. He's able to hurl some kind of hook attached to a metal cable across the road before he goes down. The hook ends up lodged in a tree on the other side, the cable strung out across the road like a tripwire.

The wagon keeps rolling on forward just fine until the front tires hit the cable, bending and snapping right off the axles. The piercing screech of metal on asphalt fills the air, the bare wheels dragging on the road. It's a lost cause. They got Oscar. We gotta go.

"Go," I holler, waving the rest of us into the trees. "Go! Move!"

Everyone seems to recognize the futility of the situation the same time I do, no one argues. But Adie ain't moving yet. She stubbornly flings one more knife at the assholes, killing one of 'em, before hurling herself from the wagon and hurtling into the trees after us.

*Adrienne's POV*

If there's a God, he's got a fucking sick sense of humor. It's raining. Normally I find the sound soothing. Tonight it just sounds like cruel laughter. The horses are dead. Eaten. The Whisperers destroyed the stereo setup. They destroyed the wagon. They killed Oscar. We can't fucking win. There's nothing I can do but watch my people sit here dejectedly, defeated and mourning yet  _ another  _ loss. We're fucked. We're so fucked, in fact, that the skins aren't even worried about us. They're not trying to find us, they're not searching the woods to take us out. They're busy reassembling their horde, turning it back around.

"Gabriel," Daryl mutters into the walkie, glaring warily through the trees at the walkers on the road. "We lost the wagon. You got walkers comin' right back at you."

"They should've evacuated by now," Luke points out.

"Yeah," I nod, wrapping my arms around my body. "They should've. Which means they're exposed."

"They're unprotected," Jerry agrees. "We need to turn that horde around."

"How?" Magna questions softly.

Daryl locks eyes with me, and I know. It's suicide, but it's the only way. I shake my head, sighing, gritting my teeth against the bitter reality, and nod.

"Look," Daryl says, eyeing the group. "This ain't a good plan, but it's all I got. I say we go back in there and we hunt the skins. We take 'em out, one by one. If we don't do this, all our people are gonna die."

"Then what?" Magna demands. "How do we lead them away?"

"I will," Lydia announces.

"The hell you will," I hiss.

"Nah," Daryl says. "We'll think of another way."

"I know how," Lydia points out. "She taught me."

"Hold on, hold on, hold on…" Luke pipes up, wide eyes on Lydia. "Let's say we actually do this, and you lead them to the cliff, there's no wagon to bring 'em over the edge. I mean, it's suicide."

"It has to be me," Lydia insists. "I can do it."

"You are  _ not _ becomin' a  _ martyr, _ " I snap, Lydia's dark eyes flickering up to mine in alarm. "You're not sacrificin' yourself. It has to be me, that's bullshit. It doesn't. You're  _ us,  _ and  _ we  _ are not goin' over that edge."

"You can't stop me," Lydia murmurs, holding my gaze.

"We're gonna deal with this later," Daryl decides, patting my back in a gesture I think is supposed to be reassuring but isn't really, pulling his crossbow from his shoulder and leaning it against a tree before turning back to address the rest of the group. "Come on. We gotta go. Right now."

-

The dead move at their own pace and the Whisperers move with them. Slow. They're so fucking slow. I'm grateful for that. If these things ran, we'd have been dead a decade ago. But they don't and we're not. We're not them. It feels like we've had a few too many one last fights, but this is it. One more one last fight. Then I'm never letting Daryl out of my sight again. We've all covered ourselves with fresh guts, if there is such a thing, and assimilated back into the horde. We're not running, not this time, not again. We're hunting. I creep my way through the dead, sharp eyes darting back and forth, searching for the living among them. It's easier than I'd thought it would be, even in the dark. Last I checked, walkers don't carry knives.

Moving as quickly as I dare, I grab a Whisperer by his mask, standing chest flush against his back, forcing his chin to the sky, and slash my blade across his throat. He drops and I melt back into the horde. Every so often, a scream perforates the night, sending terror skittering down my spine because what if it's one of mine? What if we don't all walk away from here? What if Daryl… I can't. I can't afford to entertain that thought. I spot another Whisperer, tall and clad in a long jacket that looks vaguely familiar…  _ Beta. _ I take him out, this whole thing ends. I ghost my way through the walkers, both knives clenched in my hands. I have to be quick. Soon as I'm close enough, I thrust one of my knives into his shoulder blade, intent on slitting his throat with the other. No fuss, easy-peasy. Quick. But he's quick, too, alarmingly so for such a huge bastard. He whips around, wrapping one massive hand around my throat, lifting me off my feet and hurling me to the ground. I cough and sputter, scrambling blindly back to my feet, desperate to regain some balance before he reaches me, before he kills me, but-

"Hey, shithead..."

*Daryl's POV*

I'm trying to focus on anything other than the possibility I ain't gonna see Adie again after this, that maybe she's dead or maybe I'm gonna die, maybe we're both already long overdue and the grim reaper's getting impatient, when something goes flying in my periphery. I glance over just in time to see her hit the ground. No. No, no, god damn it, I didn't want her to be the one to find Beta, I didn't want it to be her. Before I can think better of it, before anything logical can penetrate the rage in me, the fucking  _ fury _ he had the fucking audacity to touch her, I start slashing. Hell with subtlety. I gotta get to her, I just gotta get to her, that's all I can think as I plunge my blades into whatever the hell's in my way, walkers, Whisperers, it don't matter, nothing else matters, I  _ have _ to get to her. I slash my way through the horde, dropping body after body.

By the time I reach her, she's up and Beta's moved on to a new target. Negan. Negan's out here, Beta looming above him, blade about to plunge into his chest. Oh, shit, and I can't let him die. As much as I might want to. Adie seems to have come to the same conclusion and we act at the same time. She whips one of her throwing knives through the air as I hurl myself at Beta, her blade piercing his neck just before I reach him, my own knife slashing through the air, slicing across his arm. He whirls around, bloody, Adie's knife protruding from his neck, and he still don't seem to realize he's lost. I thrust both my knives into his eye sockets. This is done. I yank my blades free, sprinting towards Negan, pulling him to his feet. Adie's right behind me and she snatches my hand, clinging to me while the three of us watch as the horde drags the dead man down, the kraken come to collect. Beta disappears, unmasked and smiling, beneath a sea of decaying hands.

"Holy shit," Negan murmurs, staring in disbelief. "You know who that asshole was?"

"Yeah," I mutter, Adie just nodding silently. " _ Nobody. _ "

It don't matter who he was. It don't matter that every southern good ol' boy and their mother knew his name before all this. He ain't shit and now he's gone. It's over. We won, even if only for now. We still gotta get that herd to Oceanside. Lydia's going to do it, just like she said she would. She said she'd figure it out. Carol's going with her and I ain't decided if that's a comfort or not. Still, I got a feeling they'll be back. Carol's too goddamn stubborn to die and Lydia… Lydia's one of us. She's a survivor. Adie wanted to go, wanted to help finish it, but she stayed. I'm grateful. I don't want her outta my sight ever again. That was too close a call with Beta and I  _ cannot  _ lose her. I can't lose  _ them. _

"So," Adie murmurs, coming up from behind and wrapping her arms around me, not seeming to give a shit we're both filthy. "Think it's too early to talk about names yet?"

"You really wanna figure that shit out now or you just lookin' for a distraction?" I question, turning around and pulling her into me.

"Distraction, mostly," she sighs, brows furrowing with concern. "They should be back."

"I know," I murmur. "They'll be here."

I can't promise that. I know it and so does she. But it don't feel right just not saying anything at all. I believe they're gonna be here. We're gonna give 'em a little more time. Ain't like we got anywhere to be.

"How 'bout Harold?" I blurt.

" _ Harold? _ " Adie repeats, scoffing. "Are you serious?"

"It's better than  _ Voltaire, _ " I shrug, the name rolling off my tongue like a foul word.

"Oh, I see," she chuckles softly. "That's how you wanna play? I suppose, given the way you pick names, you think we should just name it Baby and be done with it, huh?"

"Dog never complained," I shrug.

"He would if he knew better."

Before I can come up with a half decent rebuttal or another name suggestion, Carol and Lydia are back. Having a feeling they're gonna be here and actually seeing them here are two different things and I'm flooded with relief.

"Is it…" Jerry trails off, eyeing them as they emerge from the trees.

"It is," Carol confirms. "Thanks to her."

"And her," Lydia chuckles softly, nudging Carol with her shoulder.

"Thanks all around, people," Luke says happily, visibly relieved, pulling Jules into a hug. "I can't believe we pulled it off."

"You're still here," Lydia observes, crossing towards Negan.

"For now," he nods, accepting the girl's embrace, eyes flickering to mine for just a moment.

Yeah, he's still here. Adie's absolutely bewildered, at a total loss. She wants to hate him forever, I know she does 'cause I do, too. But he saved her life last night, and our baby by proxy. He saved my ass with the Whisperers, he killed Alpha, he saved Lydia and, before that, Judith. He stays. For now.

"Hey," Adie murmurs, allowing Carol to wrap her in a hug, holding onto her tight. "I'm glad you're back."

They break apart, Carol gazing up into Adie's eyes, something in her face I ain't seen in a long time. Hope. Maybe she ain't lost Adie, after all. Not forever. Still, as Adie moves away from us, not so subtly offering what little privacy she can, I can't help but think I still ain't ready. I still ain't sure I can ever trust Carol again, with anything. But I want to. I wanna try. We still ain't ashes.

"You good?" Carol questions, eyeing me uncertainly.

"Yeah," I nod. "It's over. Right?"

"It is," she assures me, and maybe,  _ maybe  _ it's the truth.

"You get what you wanted?"

"No," she sniffs, teary eyes flickering towards Adie, who is now collapsed atop a log beside Magna, the two women leaning on each other, soft smiles playing at their lips while they watch Luke flirt -badly- with Jules. "And I won't. Not really."

"Well, you still got me."

She freezes, then looks up at me, fresh tears welling in her guilty eyes.

"Yeah?" She questions, voice breaking.

"Yeah," I nod, pulling her in for a hug that's probably long overdue but still don't quite feel like it used to. "New Mexico's still out there," I point out, releasing her.

"Maybe someday," she laughs.

"Yeah."

"We still have things to do here," she sighs, her eyes once again wandering in Adie's direction.

Yeah. Yeah, we do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! So this will be the last update for a while, but I do plan on continuing this story soon as 10c is out and I've figured out where Daryl's at and how to force Adie into the story line hahaha. Square peg, meet round hole. Anyway, in the meantime -cue the shameless self advertisement- I'll be working on the AU stuff (I'm updating that story right after this, there will be first date shenanigans, Michonne and Rick are there) and also starting on another companion piece with a bunch of little one shots set during the various eras (Farmhouse, winter on the road, prison, etc.) I've also got it in my head I might do a high school AU, because what could be more angsty than teenage Daryl? Okay so I'm gonna stop promoting myself now and just tell you all one more thing... Thank you! Thank you so much for sticking with me through this fic! It really means the world to me and blows my mind you guys are still reading Adie's story <3 Thanks again and I hope you all have a happy, safe holiday season and a happy new year!


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